The Silver Serpent
by RaNdOm Hp FaN
Summary: Faced with a choice certain death and falling to Darkness, the teen to be Voldemort’s heir must choose.
1. Azkaban

Summary:  A story of quiet desperation.  A teen wrongly sent to Azkaban because of fear is rescued by a rather dubious hero… namely Voldemort.  After he was stripped of emotion by the Dementors, Voldemort makes a promise to the boy…. "We'll teach you to feel again…"  Faced with a choice between certain death and falling to Darkness, the teen to be Voldemort's heir must choose.

            A teen sat huddled in a dark cell in Azkaban, listening to the rainfall outside.  It fell through the open window, coating his tattered shirt and jeans and his dark hair lay plastered against his face, dripping down to his chin.  There were drier places in the cell, certainly, but he didn't care.  He was beyond caring about much at this point.  He was never getting out, and the rain somehow seemed to ground him: connecting him to a world that he had used to know.

            With any luck, the tickle in the back of his throat would develop into pneumonia, and he would die in this cell, carefully left alone by his captors until he was dead.  At least, that would save him the trouble of slitting his wrists or throat with the obsidian knife that he had hammered out of a piece of rock from the floor.  He fingered the knife, watching as a trickle of crimson oozed from a new cut on his index finger.  At least it was sharp, in a place where neither color, nor thought, nor anything else was.

            The tickle developed into a cough.  Pneumonia already?  What a truly noble solution that was.  Sarcasm became second nature for the boy after the first week of incarceration, even when talking to himself.  "You're not even brave enough to off yourself, you have to wait for some bacteria to do it," he whispered.

            A cold chill came over the teen, and he pulled a threadbare blanket around him closer, before he recognized the now familiar sensation of a Dementor sweeping past.  Two, in fact, dragged a new prisoner down the hallway, and pausing at the cell next to his.  The man's screams shattered the quiet solitude provided by the rainstorm and the boy sighed.  At least he hadn't screamed.  He'd passed out instead.  Too many intensely painful memories, he decided.  He listened as the door shut and locked, the screams subsiding to whispers as the guards left.

            "This can't be happening…" an older man's voice came from the cell beside him.

            "Believe me.  Yes, it is happening," the teen prisoner whispered hoarsely to his new neighbor.  "This is as real as it gets in Azkaban."

            Shuffling could be heard from the cell next to him, as the man leaned closer to the wall.  "Who are you?"

            "I am not allowed to speak my name in this place.  They fear its power that much.  But like it matters whether or not I tell you.  In three weeks, you'll be just like the last man to be in that cell.  Hung himself with his own trousers, that one did," he retorted, hitting his fist gently against the outside wall and laughing bitterly.

            The other man audibly gulped.  "How long have you been here?"

            "It depends," he said, moving away from the now rat-infested cot.  "What day is it?"

            "November 17th."

            The boy smiled, and chuckled.  "Well then.  In that case, nearly 5 months."

            "Five months in this place?  And you're still, still coherent?" he asked in awe.

            "You mean sane?  Yeah, I suppose comparatively, I have a vast majority of my marbles.  But that doesn't mean that I'm the same person that I was when I came in.  The person I was died at the threshold of the fortress," he said, moving back to his place under the window.  

            There was silence in the prison, except for the patter of raindrops, and the rolling of distant thunder, until the man whispered, "My master will come get me out of this place."

            "Yeah, and I'm Miss America," the teen muttered darkly, falling asleep without a single star in the sky.  

            Sleep came for the wizard as it always did: like a freight train that wouldn't budge.  He didn't dream anymore.  No release from the reality of the gray and black, stone walls came for the dark-haired teen.  This room, this cell, this hole was to be his home for the rest of his natural life because of three spells that he hadn't even cast.  They claimed he had used the Killing Curse on a husband and wife Auror team, after torturing the woman with Cruciatus.  It was his wand.  It had been found at the scene, never mind the fact that he had been unable to find it for a week before the murders.  

            No amount of protestation from him had done anything: Azkaban for life, without trial or any chance of clemency from the Minister.  If he so much as mentioned the specifics of his case, or spoke his name, he would be given the Kiss.  But he was innocent, and surely God would deliver an innocent man, he told himself as the rain fell, every day and every night.

            The teen awoke and pushed himself out of the straw heap he had been sleeping in again.  It was nearly a month since the new prisoner arrived in the cell beside him, but the days ran together, and so he could not really tell.  The sky flashed with lightning outside as well as in, and thunder reverberated through the fortress.  But it was not the storm that concerned him so much as the sound of footsteps outside the door.  The Dementors didn't wear shoes.

            It was then that the boy realized the color of the lightning outside his door, but inside the castle, was green.  A color he knew all too well.  It was the color of the Killing Curse.  Dementors didn't use the Killing Curse.

            The footsteps paused outside his door and the boy froze, unwilling to breathe.  For someone too depressed to live, he seemed to have great motivation to survive this.  He wandlessly changed the color of his eyes to brown and lengthened his hair.

            "Lucius, find my imprisoned servants," a slightly serpentine voice said.  "My friends, I cannot thank you enough for your help in opening your prison to my servants this night.  You shall be rewarded for your loyalty when the fruits of our labor are realized."

            Oh, crap the swimsuit competition is over and where's my tiara?  Voldemort is breaking out his servants.  And I am sitting right in front of him.

            The cell next to him opened and the man, slightly shaking from the proximity of the Dementors, kneeled before Voldemort.  "I knew that you would come for us, Master."

            "Oh, my faithful Avery.  Are you ready to return to life from this tomb?" he asked, caressing the man's face.

            "Yes, my Lord."

            "You are quite calm, considering the state of the other prisoners.  How?"

            "The boy in that cell, My Lord.  He helped keep me sane," Avery admitted, pointing almost directly at him, through the door.

            The teenager froze and backed into the corner.

            "Nott.  McNair.  Bring this child here."

            Two men in black cloaks threw open the cell door and saw him.  Instead of gesturing for him to come, the younger of the two, Nott, grabbed him by the shoulders, pulled him roughly to his feet and thrust him out the door.  The teen landed nearly on his face in front of Voldemort.

            Voldemort looked decidedly different than the last time the boy had seen him.  Gone were his snake-like facial features, replaced by his normal human face, save for the scarlet eyes, now in human form.  He looked like just another wizard in his mid-forties, but grown from the features of his youth.  "Who are you, boy?"

            "No one of consequence.  Just another innocent in prison for life."

            "He never told me his name, milord.  He said he was forbidden to say it," Avery said quietly.

            Voldemort approached the Dementors.  "Who is he?"

            The Dementor closest to him pulled out a piece of parchment and indicated one of the names on it with a single finger.

            Voldemort turned back to the boy and smiled.  "Azkaban at 16.  I am impressed.  Just how badly did you anger the Almighty?" he asked, chuckling.  He placed his hand under the teen's chin and lifted the face gently to look into his eyes.  Brown eyes met crimson, and he continued.  "I never expected that we would meet in this place, old friend."

            "I told you before, Voldemort, I am innocent.  I am not old, neither have I ever been your friend," he replied, glaring hotly, as his tangled black hair fell in his eyes and down to his jaw.  

            "It says here that the Dementors have the authorization to administer the kiss if you so much as speak the name your parents gave you.  Signed by Fudge himself.  The Ministry fears you that much?" Voldemort said playfully.  "If I but ask that favor of them, I am certain the Dementors would be willing to oblige."

            "Do I look like a person who cares?  I'm dead already.  So what do you want from this living corpse?" He asked, pushing himself to a kneeling position, which is as far as McNair let him get.

            "I want to help you, dear boy.  You know, it's startling how alike we are.  Both orphaned, never truly knowing our parents.  Growing up in the worst place imaginable.  Finding our wizarding heritage and…"

            "Who was it that orphaned me again?" the teen spat before Nott cuffed him.

The boy coughed heavily and spat blood onto the pristine flagstones.

            "Now, now Nott. This boy does us no good bloodied.  He is right; I have orphaned many.  I was merely pointing out similarities.  My friend, you would do wise to hold your tongue until I finish."  He paused, as the boy coughed further.  "You hate the Ministry now too, don't you?"

            The boy sucked in a deep breath, calming his aching chest.  "I do not hate.  Hatred only feeds them," he said, indicating the guards.  "I'm incapable of love, joy, anger, loathing, or envy at this point.  I have stopped feeling anything but annoyance.  I get annoyed when the rats invade my bed because it is the only dry thing in the cell.  I get annoyed when it rains through the window and soaks me in the cold.  I get annoyed when the new arrivals scream day and night for 3 weeks until they finally go mad."

            Voldemort kneeled and took the boy's pale, emaciated face in both slender, warm hands, gently rubbing the delicate cheekbones and jaw.  "You will come with us, after we destroy this place.  Don't worry.  We'll teach you to feel again.  You have my word," he said, nodding his head at the wizard behind the teen as he backed up.  "You know, your eyes look much better their original color."

            "Stupefy!" a voice said, and he knew no more.

            The next thing he heard was the word, "Ennervate."

            The boy attempted to move from the middle of the cold stone floor, but found rather quickly that his hands were cuffed tightly behind his back.  His lip had been split and was throbbing with every heartbeat.  Blood also flowed from a cut on his right temple, which meant that it just happened to run straight across his eyes and down to the floor on the left side of his face.  He must have hit the floor hard when he was Stunned.

            His feet were similarly bound as well, but with rope instead of metal.  Too bad his obsidian knife lay 6 feet away, high on a windowsill.  A set of footsteps came from behind him, and the boy wished he were back in Azkaban.  

            A tall man with light brown hair came into view, walking around the teen's feet.  "Hello again," Avery said, kneeling down beside him.  "No one can use any kind of magic in these cells except stunning and ennervation spells without the Master's presence, so I brought some water to clean you up."  He brought out a small pile of clean cloths and dipped one into the bowl of water in front of him.  "You know, you're younger than I thought at first.  I would have suspected at least 19.  You're actually closer to my own boy's age.  There's something I've wanted to say to you for a month now.  Thank you for helping me in that place."  Avery gently wiped the blood from the boy's lip first.

            "Life has made me older than my years would claim," the boy retorted, choking down a cough.  "Why am I being held like this?"

            Avery paused to wring out the cloth.  "Another one of the rules.  No one gets free run of the Manor unless he is a Death Eater.  You aren't one of us, hence you stay here until you join the Master's service.  Oh.  Nott apologizes for your head.  The Master also regrets it."

            "Nott should bloody well apologize," the teen muttered.

            Avery wiped the water from the boy's forehead with one of the cloths, then started bandaging it.  His hand casually brushed it, and he felt a fever.  "Are you sick?"

            The boy did not answer, just coughed violently and Avery frowned.  "I put you in dry clothes when we first arrived.  You couldn't have gotten sick that fast, unless you were already ill."  He got to his feet and walked out, to find his Master.

           New surroundings, only now he was dying.  It felt as though fluid was filling his lungs, trapping him to drown in his own blood.  And dying in Voldemort's stronghold was not something that he wanted to contemplate.  

            Seemingly an eternity later, Avery returned, with his Master, and Severus Snape.  Not quite able to ignore the presence of his new captor, he took a deep breath, only to begin coughing again, creating a small pool of blood on the floor.

            Snape kneeled down beside him and looked him over.  "He's pale, sweaty, and besides the blood, he's still having difficulty breathing.  It might be pneumonia, but with that much blood, I'd say it's probably tuberculosis."  He moved the boy's head so that he could look into the boy's eyes.

            "And just think, Avery.  I had just gotten used to the thought of dying in that cell in Azkaban and you change the scenery."

            "Milord, he needs medical help," Snape whispered.

            "What do you suggest, Severus?  Take an Azkaban escapee to St. Mungo's and hope that the Aurors don't show?" Avery hissed.

            "I could… take him to Hogwarts," he admitted.

            "To Dumbledore?" Voldemort spat the name.

            "My Lord," Snape replied gently.  "I promise you that he will be returned here unharmed when he is well."

            "You know the rules, Severus.  He doesn't leave here until he chooses to join us." 

            "My Lord, he could die within the fortnight if he is untreated."

            Voldemort knelt beside the boy and lifted his face very gently.  "My dear child, I know the pain of being alone in this world.  Not only did the Ministry not learn from me, but they have destroyed your life as well.  Together, we could stop the cycle of pain, and make certain that they never let another like us be made.  The chance to make things right, but only if you take action.  The choice is yours," he whispered, looking into his brown eyes again.  "Be my heir?"

            The boy coughed again bringing up blood into a cloth in Voldemort's hand, and Voldemort rubbed his back gently until the fit subsided.  The teen nodded reluctant assent.

            Voldemort smiled and drew his wand, releasing the boy, and then gathered him into his arms in a hug.  "Hold out your left arm."

            Snape and Avery watched the teen weakly comply, leaning back against a wall where Voldemort set him.  "Signo mei serpens." 

            Remembering his own Initiation, Snape flinched a bit, as the boy's flesh burned into the shape of the Dark Mark.  The boy did not make a sound, but Snape did not expect him to.  The boy was getting worse by the moment and it was surprising that he hadn't passed out from the pain.  As Snape began to help the boy to his knees to kiss his new Master's robes, Voldemort stopped him.

            "No, Severus.  He shall not kiss my robes.  Take him to Hogwarts; you have three days.  Remember well the promises you have made today, my son," Voldemort commanded, lowering the boy's sleeve again.  

            Snape nodded and gently lifted the teen to his feet.  The three bowed as Voldemort left, and Snape DisApparated with the new servant.

Next chapter:  To Hogwarts!

See the little button to the bottom left?  Review…  It will motivate me to post more often… and yes, this fic has already been finished.  It's the first in a trilogy I am writing.  Post GOF (of course).


	2. The Aftermath

See AN at bottom… please!

            The boy didn't say a word after he left Riddle's dungeon, no matter what Severus tried to say.  He asked about the condition of the boy's arm, if he needed a handkerchief, or if he needed a warmer cloak.  The only response Severus ever got was a nod or shaking of the head.  Mostly, the boy replied stubbornly in the negative.  Finally Snape sighed and they lapsed into complete silence.  As he steered the boy to the Hospital Wing, he saw Albus waiting outside.  "Severus, are you alright?"

            "Yes Headmaster, I am fine."

            "Ah," the ancient man said.  "Who is this young man?"

            The boy flinched at the attention.  Severus drew him slightly closer.  "He is my sister's son.  He is ill, and I believe Poppy should have a look at him."

            "Ah.  A pleasure," Albus said, but asked no more questions.

            The boy collapsed on the bed and coughed more, before Snape could say any more, and crimson drops ran from between his fingers.  Albus raised an eyebrow, but watched as Severus drew a tissue and started cleaning the blood up.  "Stay here and lay down while I get the medi-witch."

            Snape let himself be moved away as Poppy came over to look at the boy, and Dumbledore led him into a corner.  "Severus, what happened?"

            "Voldemort summoned me as usual, and while I was discussing Potions with him for the upcoming revels, Avery burst in, claiming that the boy was ill.  We didn't believe him until we saw the teen in a cell in the dungeons, coughing up blood onto the floor, and in his current state.  It appears that Voldemort removed him from Azkaban the night that he destroyed it.  I was present at his initiation rites not a half hour ago," Snape replied, carefully watching the boy as Poppy worked on him.

            "He can't be more than…" Dumbledore began in horror.

            "Sixteen is what Voldemort told me.  It seems that he knows the boy, but has forbidden us to know his true identity.  Apparently," Severus said, sighing.  "Voldemort intends to make him his heir."

            Albus turned and gazed in sympathy at the teen that now lay sleeping quietly on the Infirmary cot.  Poppy stalked over to Severus, livid at the boy's condition.

            "He is in the final stage of tuberculosis.  How did he manage that?" she demanded hotly.

            "Azkaban."  It was the only word that Severus knew that could speak volumes to a British wizard.

            She paled.  "He's just a boy."

            "Yes.  He is."

            Poppy frowned, shaking her head.  "What happened to his forehead?  The bandages were magicked on."

            "When one of the Death Eaters stunned him in the prison, he hit the floor fairly hard.  Avery was caring for the cut when he came to get us. What more needs be done for him?"

            "Well, for one thing, he hasn't had a decent meal in quite some time.  Plenty of food and he needs bed rest and some medication for at least 2 days."

            "That's quite alright.  Voldemort has permitted 3.  With your consent, Headmaster, I believe someone should stay with him at all times," Severus replied, scratching an itch on his scalp, then smoothing the hair again.

            "I quite agree.  I shall take the first watch, Severus."

            They had to have a second watch and third watch before the boy woke up, nearly 12 hours later.  Dumbledore sat, reading a first edition of Tolkien's the Hobbit when he noticed the boy stir.  He replaced the book in his left sleeve and smiled at the boy.  "Good morning."

            The boy rolled from his side to his back.  "Where's Severus?"

            "He should be here any minute.  He and I have been taking turns watching you while Poppy slept," Albus said.  "Are you feeling any better?"

            Again the boy resorted to nodding, gently coughing, though it sounded drier than before.

            "That is well indeed.  Can you tell me where you are?"

            "Yes," the boy replied, but said nothing else.  Curiously enough, he appeared to be avoiding the Headmaster's gaze.

            Noticing that yes or no questions were getting him nowhere, he changed tack.  "Why were you sent to Azkaban?"

            The boy turned to him in shock, brown eyes meeting icy blue.  "How did you…"

            "Your right collarbone," he explained, brushing the boy's collar back.  "They mark every inmate who enters that prison.  Ghastly thing to do.  Why were you sent there?"

            "Double murder with an Unforgivable," the boy whispered.

            "You say that regretfully.  Did you kill those people?"

            He smiled weakly.  "Does it matter?"

            "Everything in the world matters to someone.  Why don't you want to tell me?"

            The boy sighed, rather than explain his reasons.  He shook his head.  "No.  It was my wand they found, but my words did not curse them.  However, the person who did used Cruciatus and the Killing Curse.  And they couldn't find a brother wand for Priori Incantatem.  So I got life imprisonment in Azkaban.  And since I just discussed my case, in direct violation of my sentencing, I am now required to receive the Dementor's Kiss."

            "Azkaban has been destroyed.  And the Dementors are missing," Albus said gently.  "You need not fear them.  The Ministry's laws no longer bind them.  But you wouldn't happen to know where they are?"

            "You're as subtle as an Avada Kedavra," the boy muttered.  "You want to know how I escaped, when all the others died."

            Snape entered the ward and approached the boy's bed.  

            "Severus," the teen whispered.  As the Potions Master leaned closer, the teen grabbed him by the collar and pulled him close, hissing questions into his ear.  "What does he know?"

            Snape seemed taken aback by the abruptness of the contact.  "He knows only that I brought you here, and that you had been in Azkaban.  That is all I told him."

            "Does he know my name?"

            Snape blinked.  "I don't even know your name.  He has told no one what it is."

            The boy released him, and pushed up from the bed in self-loathing.  He walked to the window, where Severus followed at a safe distance.  

            "Why do you look out the window?  Do you know this place?"

            "I used to," he said tearfully, through dark brown eyes.  "A lifetime ago."

            The teen revealed nothing else until they left the castle for the Death Eater stronghold.  They were greeted at the door by a pair of Death Eaters, who guided them to a large room on the ground floor.  It was almost a ballroom, furnished in black marble flooring, and large stained glass windows, that added an eerie brilliance to the room in the night.  The two were led before Voldemort, who stood on a raised platform at one end. 

            Severus had dressed the boy in an old cloak of his that he had outgrown, but never gotten rid off.  The boy wore his hood up, but with no mask that was standard faire for a Death Eater.  The teen knelt before Voldemort, his head bowed in subservience.  

            Voldemort lowered the hood to reveal the boy's features, and inspected him for signs of healing.  "My dear boy, welcome back."

            "Thank you, My Lord," he replied, and the Master gently touched his head.

            "Arise, my heir."  The boy did as he was commanded, and Voldemort continued to all present.  "Long have I searched for one to stand as my heir and leader of the Cult of the Silver Serpent.  I have found him, in the depths of Azkaban, cast there by our mutual enemies.  He is as powerful as I was in my youth, with the blood of Merlin and Gryffindor, and the many gifts of Slytherin.  He shall be called The Serpent Lord, and be heir to all that I possess, leading my most gifted in battle."

            Snape watched as Voldemort publicly embraced the boy.  

            "There is just one last thing to do.  Serpens Argentus."

            The boy flinched, but tried to remain still and impassionate as a burning sensation shot through his right arm.  Now neither arm was untouched by his Master, and he knew he was Marked for life.  When the burning stopped, nearly a minute later, with eyes stinging with tears, he looked at the skin under his sleeve.  The Master examined his work as well.

            A silver, almost metallic, snake tattoo was coiled around his arm, with the head starting at the wrist, and the tail reaching to his collarbone.  The boy flexed his fingers to remove the numbness.  Voldemort fingered the head of the Serpent tattoo, and said, "It's beautiful, isn't it?"

            "Yes, My Lord.  Thank you," he whispered.

            "That is all for tonight, my faithful.  Be watchful, and patient," he said, dismissively.  "Serpent, you know how to find me when you are ready to go to sleep."

            The teen stood in the ballroom after all of them but Severus had Disapparated.  

            "My Lord.  May I speak with you?" Severus asked respectfully as the boy considered the windows through newly colored silver eyes.

            The boy smiled.  "It's going to take me some time to get used to that.  What is it, Severus?"

            "Are you well, my Lord?  You seemed slightly distracted during the ceremony," he prodded gently.

            He turned back to the windows, and sighed.  "It's not that I'm not happy, it's just that I…"

            "You are having difficulty adjusting to your new surroundings, milord."

            "Yes, Severus, exactly.  I went from being in prison to being the chosen one of Voldemort's servants.  As you might well imagine, it has been a bit disconcerting," he said, distantly.

            "Do you require anything for the pain?"

            "Not at this time.  But rest assured, Severus, that is the one thing I would not trust to anyone else.  Your Potions skills are respected and appreciated.  As well as your concern for a new leader that is untried and unproven."

            Severus nodded, as the teen turned and handed the cloak back to him.  "Thank you for its use.  Good night, Severus Snape," he said, and walked to find his new Master.

********

Well, there's Chapter Two… Just to let you know, I try not to post chapters that are less than 1500 words.  I hate it when others do that, and refuse to do it consciously.  

Shameless plugging alert!  If you like the dark and depressing atmosphere of this story, go read one of my other fics, to be posted soon.  I have the first chapter up of Nepenthes and one called Tears of the Wolf.  I have had great reviews on both before posting… then again, the readers are close friends. :P

I realized while rereading my post that yet again with this fic, I forgot to post a disclaimer… a very, very bad habit of mine.  So here goes.  If you think that I created the character and/or masterpiece that is the world of Harry Potter, you are more than sorely mistaken.  And please don't sue me… I only have money because I am in debt.  And you're not getting my thin mints for compensation.

Yea for reviewers.  

Nephir- thanks for my first review on the Silver Serpent!  You'll see in the third chapter.  Maybe 4th.

angelhitomi- thank you!  I always love to be told I am doing something well.

Kit Vincent- You'll have to wait a bit longer.  Next chapter is when you see more Serpent and Voldemort conversation… your question comes later.

petunia812002- I know, that frustrates me too… so many good premises, like "Tangled Fates" by Lauren and Nappa is a favorite of mine… but that fic may never be finished L  Mine will be though… I wouldn't do that to you.

amy- it depends… I would like to get 10 reviews per chapter, just cause I am a Leo… hence I love the adoration and praise that comes with this type of media.  It may be finished by mid April, maybe longer… TELL YOUR FRIENDS!!!!

RaistlinofMetallica- Glad to hear it.  I just did. :P

Katy999- I did… good premise.  I'm sort of a fan of people getting screwed over by circumstance though.  You might want to read If Thine Enemy… I forget who writes it.  Either here or at Snitchfiction.net.  Really good, features awesome Dark!Harry… although I wrote this last summer.

HPIceAngel- I agree… I really love Dark!Harry fiction… because I'm one of the people who believes that even the best can fall, and only the strongest can recover.

Slytherin- Well yes, it is… but _I am an American, and I thought it would add to the sarcasm, as he is neither a beauty queen, nor from the United States._

M.E.- Thanks.  Here's more.

Dark-past-  'Yes, well, we all have our little excuses, don't we?'  But seriously… temporary insanity is sometimes the only saving grace I experience, and a good survival technique when used wisely.

Next chapter… The Serpents talk, play chess and the Silver Serpent prepares for his first mission.


	3. Fun and Games and Death

I wish I truly owned Cedar, Alexander and Paladin, but alas, I couldn't fit them into my apartment unnoticed.  So the idea of these beings belongs to me!  Anything you recognize by contrast is not mine!

Yay!  22 reviews in less than 24 hours!  I am psyched!  Here's Chapter 3.

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Chapter 3: Fun and Games and Death

A white Muggle rook slid silently and without visible motivation across a chess board.  The same invisible hand also moved the black pawn that had set there off to the side.  Voldemort smiled at his protégé and said, "Your turn, Silver."

            The boy frowned at the alignment of his own black pieces and gently gestured through the air with his right hand.  A knight moved its two blocks forward, but then stopped and stubbornly refused to move right or left.  The teen's frown increased, and he finally moved his hand violently, and the knight flew through the air, caught deftly in his Master's left hand.  

            "Gently."

            "You were holding it there.  Don't think I didn't notice, father," he said, rubbing his forehead.  

            "You have learned much these past two months, my ward.  But patience is not a virtue that you know well," Voldemort replied, sighing heavily.  "Our adversaries will fight you every step of the way.  And you must understand how to fight their power, to loose their control of the situation, as you wish to loose my hold on this knight," he added, replacing the black piece on the intended square.

            "How can I be patient when they fight me at every turn, even when I try to accomplish my goals gently?" the boy asked, thinking of his time in Azkaban with a shudder.

            "You lost your patience during your time in that place.  Allow me to explain how you must think of it.  You expect a tree to stand even a strong wind because of the roots, correct?"

            The boy nodded.

            "Then you must be patient as you remove each root from the dirt or you kill the tree.  Fighting my power over the chess piece is in the same way.  Try again to move it."

            The boy concentrated on the chess piece, visualizing his Master's energy cloud that surrounded the piece.  He then launched a multi-pronged attack against the red cloud, finally piercing the barrier as his Master smiled, and the chess piece moved freely.

            "That took you five minutes.  You must always attack with patience, my heir.  Patience will see you farther than brute strength some times," Voldemort explained, seeing the fatigue resting on his protégé's shoulders.  "Perhaps we should call it a night.  You have a visit to Hogsmeade tomorrow, correct?"

            "Yes, milord," the boy nodded.

            "Well, I would like to speak to you in the morning when you awake.  Sleep well, my student," he said, standing from the table and moving out the door, then closing it.

            The boy stood as well, carefully peeling the jumper over his head, and taking the black trousers off, wandlessly summoning a short sleeve t-shirt and pajama pants.  He moved to his bed, as the winter air still chilled the bedroom, to find his serpents already laying on his duvet.  "Ready to sleep already, I see?" he said, reaching out both hands for the snakes to curl up on his forearms, and smiling as one slithered farther up his shoulder to the place on his neck that that one snake always slept.  One was completely black, the other was green, and the third (shoulder snake) was white with red eyes.  The boy lay face down in the soft pillows and surprised as always by the added warmth of the reptiles, he sighed.  The albino snake gently contracted its coils, massaging his shoulders lightly and relaxing him to the point of unconsciousness.  

            If one was watching at this point, one might have almost heard one of the serpents whisper, "All is well and safe, my Lord.  Rest now."

            Severus knocked softly on the boy's door the next morning.  He had often come by to check on the boy, feeling an obligation to the young Death Eater that he could neither explain nor deny.  

            "Come in."

            He opened the door to see the boy still lying in bed, with the serpents coiled around his arms.  "Milord, I'm sorry for interrupting…"

            "Severus, you need not apologize.  I was awake.  Have you met my servants?" he asked, playfully.

            "No, milord."

            "Ah.  This is Alexander," he said, pointing to the black one.  "This is Cedar, and this one is Paladin," he said, pointing to the green and white ones respectively.  "They guard me while I sleep."  

            "I was unaware of that, milord.  Have you ever needed them?"

            "Luckily, no.  The wards are more than enough to protect me.  But their companionship is appreciated just the same," he replied, then hissing softly to the snakes, causing Snape to raise his right eyebrow. 

            "Milord, you are a Parselmouth?"

            He smiled broadly.  "What gifts of Slytherin did you think that Lord Voldemort was referring to?  The pewter goblet set?"

            Severus smiled in return.  "I stand corrected, Milord.  I came by to check on you, to make sure that you are feeling well."

            "Yes.  And ready for today's mission," he replied, not dislodging the snakes, but still standing.  "Let us pray that we do not need your services as medi-wizard."

            "Where do you go today?"

            "Ah, Severus, you know that no one is told who does not go.  Your duties to Hogwarts keep you there today.  I cannot tell you where Lord Voldemort sends me," he sighed.

            "Well, milord, I wish you the best of luck, and hope that you will tell me what transpires after you return," Snape said, respectfully bowing, and heading to the door.

            "Have fun at school, Professor," the teen said, placing sarcastic emphasis on certain words.  He knew the man too well to tell him to have fun with a straight face.

He hissed at the albino snake and watched it slither down to his left wrist to join the black one.  Once free of the snakes, he dressed in a long sleeved black t-shirt, trousers and boots and went to find his Master, before a sharp hiss brought him back to his bed.  "All right, Paladin, you can come too."           

            He leaned down and picked up the albino before striding from the room.  The serpent coiled around the teen's arm and no one in the halls gave him a second look.

            He knocked on a large door.  "Good morning, My Lord."

            "Ah, Serpent, come in," his surrogate father replied.  He waited as the boy entered the room and sat down.  "Are you ready to lead this attack?"

            The boy hesitated.  "My Lord, I…"

            "Serpent, you spend all your time by my side, which is understandable as you are my pupil.  But you stand as head of my elite Death Eaters now," Voldemort said.

The boy lowered his head.  "I understand what you require of me, milord.  It is just that I do not wish to disappoint you."

Voldemort smiled, calling the boy's attention by hissing at the snake to leave the boy's shoulder.  "I know what you are capable of.  You will not disappoint me.  In fact, I have a gift for you, my son."

The boy's face lifted in curiosity.  "Father, I deserve no such gift…"

The older man held up his hand for silence.  "I give this to you so that others may know you."  He summoned a large box wrapped in black, green and silver, the colors of his old House.

The teen opened it carefully, to find a dragon-hide floor-length trench coat with a silver snake embossed on the leather of the right arm.  He stroked the material with a tremulous hand and looked at his Master.  "It is truly exquisite, milord."

"Put it on," Voldemort urged.

The boy stood, and with Voldemort's assistance, shrugged on the jacket.  It fit perfectly, and flowed almost identical to most black robes.  

Voldemort stepped back and sat down as the boy considered the gift.  "You told me once that you could feel nothing.  My actions have given you pain, but for now I wish you to ignore that pain and tell me how you are feeling, right now."

The teen thought for a moment.  "Accepted, respected and extremely grateful, milord."

"Excellent," Voldemort said with a broad smile.  "Come, let's finish planning the revels in Hogsmeade today.

As the Death Eaters no doubt knew because of his absence, it was a Hogsmeade weekend and Severus managed to pull chaperone duty.  It was near the end of the day, without a report of any attack elsewhere in the country, and Snape was getting anxious.  Surely his Master was not planning to attack Hogsmeade itself today.  He began shepherding errant Hufflepuffs back toward the castle, when the Three Broomsticks exploded.

As everyone was thrown from their feet, nearly 20 men in dark cloaks and masks Apparated in.  A few seconds later, the teen appeared, walking through the flaming wreckage of the pub, wearing his new jacket, and the albino snake on his left wrist.  He nodded his head approvingly as the Death Eaters started grabbing townspeople for their targets.  "Good people of Hogsmeade, if I may have your attention?"  He commanded in a dark voice as the screams subsided.  "I am the Silver Serpent, lieutenant to Voldemort, who has indeed returned from the dead.  Welcome to our time now.  The time of chaos, of anarchy, moving toward a more perfect order than the one that the Ministry promises you."

Snape got to his feet and the Silver Serpent smiled, holding up his hand in a gesture that froze Snape's movement.  "You wish to defend these children from the future, Snape?"

"Leave the children alone, Death Eater," he growled as his colleagues in black began hexing those targets they picked.

"You'll note that the innocent have been left alone.  And I couldn't deprive my Death Eaters of their fun.  Tell you what, Snape.  Either you name the ones to die, or I do," the Serpent replied, twirling his wand.              

Snape knew that he was seriously outgunned and needed the Aurors.  He had to stall if he was going to preserve lives today.

"No ideas?" the teen asked impatiently.  "Fine.  All right." He pointed to at least 4 victims, who cowered in fear.  "Your choice, or should I say hesitation, has condemned them, Snape.  Remember that."

In the moment that the boy pointed, he released Snape from the spot where he had been held wandlessly.  Snape pulled his wand in anger, but the Serpent was faster.  "Don't even think it, Professor.  Drop the wand or I will drop you and your students."

Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger seethed angrily as the Death Eaters held them from behind.  Snape let his wand fall to the ground.  The head Death Eater smiled.  "Good."  He moved closer to the Gryffindors that were being held.  "Such a beautiful face.  You see, in Azkaban, beauty is destroyed.  Of course there is no ugliness either.  There is only death, and barely living."  He inhaled deeply.  "I had forgotten what such a face could look like," he said, gently brushing the back of his hand against her cheek.

Ron tensed; evidently he was her boyfriend.  "You don't approve?" he asked the redhead, flexing his fingers, then punching the student in the solar plexus.  He dropped to his knees, gasping for breath.

"Why are you doing this?" the rational Gryffindor prefect asked him.

"You shouldn't ask questions to which you don't want the real answers.  Each person here deserves death for supporting the people who sent us to Azkaban," he said, watching her eyes open wide.  "Yes, us.  The Ministry refused to give me a trial, just gave me life for a crime that I didn't commit.  My Master understands how badly the system needs change, even though you do not believe his return," his face went into a dangerous smile, and he drew his wand, watching her flinch.  "I wouldn't dream of hurting you, divine girl," he whispered.  He moved away from the students as another Death Eater punched a struggling Ron in the kidneys.  "Morsmordre!" he shouted, casting the Dark Mark into the sky.

"Aurors, milord!" one yelled.

"Apparate," he said firmly.  "Believe me, we have only just begun the fight!" the Silver Serpent said as he walked away, Apparating in mid-step.  

True enough, the Aurors Apparated in, to examine the wreckage and help clean up.  Snape rubbed his forehead.  Great. Another report to make to Albus.

*****

A/N and thanks!

Snape coolgirl-  Um… thanks, I think.  I got your review for chapter one literally a minute after the 2nd chapter was posted.  But in response, I like 'weird' and I am…

Kiri- remember that in the second scene in Azkaban, Voldemort comments on how much better the teen's original eye color was.  So if that was changed, what else could be? :P

ame_chan- Why he got thrown into Azkaban comes out in later chapters and the sequel (although neither of them have been totally finished yet)

Kaat ShadowLover-  Thanks!  I've never gotten that particular compliment before, but I like it.

Steena- I already did.  As with Snape coolgirl, I got your review for ch. 1 after I posted ch. 2.  Sorry J

UniversalStar87- as I said, this story is completely done, unless I decide to tweak it or someone wants to beta it.  Yes, this is an UNBETA-ed fic!  More will come when I get enough reviews, and/or time to post.  College sucks sometimes.

Xikum-  lots of great questions.  The only question is, do you want me to tell you, or do you want to read the later chapters?  Your choice, but I won't post the answers here.

Jewelclaw Lady of Wind- Interesting handle.  Thanks.  I hate accidentally repeating plotlines from other stories, and will continue to post my other stories only so long as they are original ideas off the HP universe.

Wittchway- Wow!  Man, I have to say it was good to find out you read my story!  I have read First Kill, and Taste, and I am just starting Because I Said.  You're awesome, and it's cool to know that you know I exist.  I was working on something a bit the reverse of Taste… reversing who turned who, because I thought it would be fun.  I forget who recommended me to you on a list of Dark!Harry stories.

UniversalStar87- Déjà vu!  You just read ch. 3!

RaistlinofMetallica- Maybe, maybe not.  Only I and my computer… and my best friend know.  But that's because she read it and told me to post.  I agree… there is no way that you can paint a character like him so one-dimensionally, and I hate it when people do that.

IMPORTANT A/N!!!  I wanted to gauge interest for a Yahoo e-group for all my fics.  Would need suggestion on the name, and what you think… because I don't want to do this if you don't want it!  Other fics up now include Fire and Ice (a Slashfic), Tears of the Wolf (Lupin-centric), and Nepenthes.  I also have a couple of AUs to toss up.  I think I have at least 10 stories, in various states of completion… mostly in my head.  You have no idea how much it sucks to be me right now.  As if 3 upperlevel biology courses, a biochemistry and an upcoming MCAT weren't enough!  I have HP fanfic swirling around in my cranium nearly 24/7.  And I read enough on this site to go insane, were it not for TV :P  At any rate, leave suggestions on this in a review, and I will post the decision with ch4!

Well, Ch4 will have explanations, Cruciatus, heavy sedatives, chains, more explanations and the true identity of the Silver Serpent revealed.  

Be kind, review (oh wait, that doesn't rhyme, does it?)


	4. The Mousetrap

Snape rubbed his forehead and poured another goblet of red wine in his dungeon office.  "Then the Aurors arrived, and he Disapparated."

"He threatened you, and used wandless magic, but cast no other wanded spells but the Dark Mark?" Albus asked quietly.

Snape sipped the wine, and nodded as he swallowed.  "Yes, Albus, but I believe he was responsible for the explosion.  Were there any fatalities?"

"Three were killed in the explosion, and four died of Avada Kedavra.  No students were among the fatalities, only the injured.  Mr. Weasley had several bruised organs from his contact with them, but other than that, just minor concussive injuries and bruises."  Albus paused and looked Snape straight in the eye.  "What can you tell me about this Silver Serpent?"

"Not much.  Voldemort is very protective of him.  He is the boy that I brought here several months ago, though.  But he seems to have some sort of rapport with me that I don't understand.  I just need time to get closer to him.  He knew that the attack would come on Hogsmeade, but he wouldn't confide in me."

Albus sighed.  "Then he is wise.  He knows that telling you would change your reaction to the situation.  But we do not have the luxury of such time, Severus.  You must discover his identity, however, as the Aurors have no idea, and the Azkaban records didn't include his description before they were destroyed."

The Dark Mark seared on Severus' arm and he doubled over in pain, spilling the goblet on a stack of parchment.  "Voldemort is summoning me."

"Go Severus.  Be safe."

Snape grabbed his broomstick and flew to the edge of the Apparition barrier.  He then Apparated to the Riddle Mansion.

Dumbledore sighed, and cleaned up the evidence of Voldemort's pull.  So much stopped when the Dark Lord called.

"Snape is a traitor, milord.  He opposed us in Hogsmeade and what is worse, he defied the Silver Serpent as well," Nott growled, as Snape arrived outside.

"Severus, enter," Voldemort commanded and Snape walked into the great ballroom where his Master often held court.  

"Milord, I…"

"Quiet, traitor," Nott hissed.

The doors swung open with great force and slammed into the walls beside them.  In strode a furious Silver Serpent, wreathed in Dark flame.  "My apologies for the disturbance, milord.  May I handle this dispute?" he ground out through clenched teeth.

"Of course, my boy.  Good job in Hogsmeade, by the way."  Voldemort said, walking back through the door and wandlessly closing them again.

As the Master left, he advanced coldly on the smug Death Eaters.  "Snape.  Stay on your feet.  The rest of you, bow before your Lord," he demanded, with a hand gesture pushing them down with his might.  He paced the length of the floor in front of them, as Snape stood behind the Serpent.  Loud footsteps became the only sound, besides the Serpent's controlled breathing.  "Nott, I can't decide if you are incredibly zealous or incredibly stupid.  That goes for all of you three as well.  Has it ever gotten through that thick skull of yours that Severus spies on Dumbledore for us, giving us an edge that we could not hope to achieve given a lifetime?" He paused, letting the men cower.  "As a result, from time to time, he must play the loyal Hogwarts professor to convince the world that he is trustworthy, when really he is our spy." He drew his wand, playfully uttering the last sentence.  "He did as _I_ wanted, without prompting or instruction.  I wanted him to make a show of defying me in public, so that his cover would not be blown.  And you four accuse him of betrayal.  Crucio!"  

Snape marveled at the boy's power.  He held all four men under Cruciatus at once.  And from the look of the men, the power of each curse was not diminished by the dissemination.  "Milord," he said quietly, and then continued as the teen turned.  "Perhaps you could be merciful tonight."

He looked curiously at Snape, then shrugged and released the Death Eaters.  "Get out of my sight, you disgusting worms.  And beg my forgiveness the next time you see me, or you might get to repeat the experience.  Leave."

"Thank you, milord," they said, limping toward the doors.  

After they left, the Serpent collapsed in a chair on the platform, rubbing his forehead trying to get rid of a concentration headache.  

"Are you alright, milord?"

"Yes, Severus.  I have felt Cruciatus before, but I have never cast it on anyone.  The power is immense," he said, taking deep breaths.

"If you don't mind me asking, who cast it on you?"

"The same man who undoubtedly cast it on you.  Severus, listen to me and remember.  I have protected you, because I find value in the work you do and the friendship you provide.  But if you ever betray me, you will experience pain worse than the men who accused you tonight.  Do you understand?" he asked, walking closer to his servant.

"Yes, milord."

"Go home, Severus.  I am certain your duties at Hogwarts require your attention.  I hope no delicate work was disturbed," the teen said, pausing right in front of the Potions Master.

"Milord, why do you trust me?" Snape asked, pausing at the doorway.

"You have saved my life more than once.  Such loyalty is rare in this world.  Good night, Severus," he said, waving his hand in a gesture of dismissal.

Snape bowed and left silently.

The sound of a man clapping came from a shadowy corner.  "Well handled, Argentus.  I couldn't have thought of a better way to assure your servants' loyalty.  But there is one thing I don't understand.  Why do you set Severus apart?"

"One treats the pawns different than one treats the bishop," the Serpent said, a silent silver tear rolling down one cheek.  "By your leave, milord."

The pupil left the room, heading for some aspirin and a bottle of wine.

Severus walked the empty night-darkened hallways back to his office.  He knew that Albus would be waiting for him the second that he reached his rooms.  

Certainly enough, as Snape crossed the threshold to his apartment, he saw the venerable wizard's outlandish robes and greeted him.

"Severus, what did Voldemort want?"

Severus removed his cloak and set it on the sofa, then collapsed next to it.  "Apparently, Nott saw me during the attack at Hogsmeade and accused me of defying the Silver Serpent, and therefore betraying Voldemort."

"Were you placed under Cruciatus?" Albus asked, surveying his comrade.

"Strangely enough, no.  The Silver Serpent interceded and cast Cruciatus on my accusers.  He told them that I acted exactly as he wanted.  He wanted me to pretend to protect the students for keeping up 'my ruse as a professor'," Severus replied, rubbing his forehead.  "Part of me wonders exactly how much he knows about me.  The other part is afraid to know."

Albus raised an eyebrow and asked, "Severus, can you try to find out as much as you can during the next month?  I want to know before he gets caught by the Aurors."

"So do I."

It was nearly three weeks before Snape was able to formulate a plan to trap Voldemort's heir.  The teen had caught a virus from one of the other Death Eaters, and was fairly well bedridden.  

Snape walked through the hallways of Riddle Manor, and knocked gently on the Silver Serpent's door.

"Come in," the teen replied.

Snape opened the oak door and walked inside.  "I have returned, milord."

"Severus," the boy said, propped up on a few pillows.  "That was rather quick."

The Potions Master sat down next to the boy on his king-sized bed.  "I managed to find a bottle of the flu potion behind my private stash of veritaserum.  It should help the symptoms better than anything Avery tries to give you."  He turned to look for the Serpent's reptilian servants.  "Milord, where are your serpents?"  He pulled out a vial of light blue liquid, which he handed to the youth.

"Oh.  I sent them to Lord Voldemort earlier today, because I'm not going anywhere, and you said that you would return soon," the boy said, uncorking the potion, and drinking it.

"Be sure to take it all," Snape said, getting up from the bed.

After the boy finished the medicine, he turned to Snape and said, "Severus, you are too good to me."

"No, milord.  It is you who are too good to me," the older Death Eater said, as the boy slumped over unconscious.  Snape checked that he was truly out before he lifted the teen and Apparated from the Manor.

Within 20 minutes, Snape had reached a cell in the dungeon and walked in.  He lay the boy down on the floor, pulled the chains from their place on the wall and attached them to the heir's wrists and ankles.  He surveyed the boy, clad in his sleeveless black shirt and pajama pants.  In plain sight were his Dark Mark, and his silver tattoo, and he looked anything but threatening as he slept in a drug-induced stupor.  Severus had made the same mistake as the boy had.  Both, when faced with the man known as Voldemort, had chosen to join the Darkness to save their lives and get revenge on their enemies.  But could Snape pull him out of the downward spiral he had started on?  It had taken one wizard to save Snape, but that was Albus Dumbledore.

Albus hadn't shown up yet, so Severus went off in search of the older wizard, who he found in the Headmaster's office, talking to Lupin.  "I have him here.  The potion should wear off in about 20 minutes, so I suggest we adjourn to the dungeons if you wish to speak with him."

"Of course," Albus said, gesturing for Snape to lead the way.  "No one knows?"

"They know that I went in, and that I haven't come out.  The Death Eaters that serve him are used to my presence, and his non-human servants were sent away.  Otherwise, there would be three poisonous snakes latched onto my ankle.  I brought him directly here, and he had been sending away everyone else all night," Snape said, the only voice in the hallway.

They walked inside, and saw the boy lying on the floor.  "This is the Silver Serpent?" Lupin asked.

"Yes.  I know that he doesn't look like much now, but be glad that he doesn't have his wand with him, or he would hex us the second he became conscious.  Oh, Albus, I should like for you to cast a Memory Charm on him after we finish.  I am not certain that my power would be able to overcome his inherent magic," Snape said, drawing his wand.  "Ennervate."

The boy stirred, and the chains clinked quietly as he moved.  He blinked a couple of times, looking over the three wizards and fixing his eyes on Snape.

"Oh, Severus," the boy said very dangerously as he pushed himself to his knees.  "I warned you of the consequences of your betrayal, so I should ask this.  Are you _completely_ out of your mind?"  He strained at the chains, pulling them to their full length as Remus took a step back, slightly phased by the movement.

"No, milord, I am fully sane.  I suppose you would like to know what you are doing here?" Snape replied

"I know exactly what I am doing here.  You kidnapped me to answer questions that are not yours to ask!" he said, glaring at Albus and Lupin.  "And you have delivered me into the hands of the worst enemies of our true Lord."

"People have died at your hands.  We have to know where you came from," Remus replied.

"And no one has ever died at your hands?" the boy demanded.

Snape and Dumbledore looked downward.  The boy smiled.

"I see.  I'm right," he said, examining the mechanism of the locks that bound him.

"Milord, you have the information we need.  The second you tell us, I will free you," Snape said, moving closer and withdrawing a vial of veritaserum from his pocket.

"Voldemort will kill you for this, Severus.  And I will not stop him this time.  In fact, I just may ask him for the pleasure of delivering the final blow," he hissed, the silver in his eyes catching the torchlight.

"Voldemort told me you were 16.  Is this correct?"

"Yes," he said, testing the bonds.

"And you were rescued from Azkaban?" Albus asked.  

"We've been over this, Dumbledore.  Yes," he snarled.

"What is your name?" Lupin asked.

"You don't deserve to know, werewolf."

Lupin tried not to let the teen bait him.  "Who does?"

"Not you.  My Master is the only one who is worthy of my trust," he retorted, wandlessly opening his handcuffs.  "I _had_ thought that Severus was close, but I was a fool to believe that he would not betray me, when I knew he was guilty of espionage."

Albus took note of this and moved quickly to close them and bind the boy's wandless powers.  "Why don't you trust us?"

"You really want to know?" he asked, obviously angry with Dumbledore's question.  "Do you really?  I told you why I was sent to Azkaban.  I was sent there by people like you who thought that putting me away was the only way to sleep soundly at night; people who took away my life; people who broke me.  Voldemort picked up the pieces.  He fixed the shattered mirror and gave me a new purpose."

"A purpose that includes the murder of innocent people?"

"Come now, Lupin, you know the old adage.  You cannot make an omelet without breaking a few eggs," he said, smiling.

"Tell us your name," Snape commanded.

"You know who I am.  You taught me for 5 years."  He glared at Severus.  "You know, you never liked me in classes, and yet I have saved your life numerous times since I entered the Dark Lord's service.  You never asked why I trusted your Potions expertise so greatly.  It is because you once called me almost as incompetent as Longbottom."

Severus' heart sank.  "Well.  Not exactly the person that I expected, but I can see why Voldemort so carefully guards your identity."

"What is it, Severus?" Lupin asked.

"Don't you recognize him? You taught him in your first teaching stint here.  Does the word Patronus ring any bells?" Snape asked dryly.

"Harry?"

"No.  Not any more," he replied coldly.  "Harry Potter died in Azkaban.  I am all that survives."

******

A/N.  Well, some of you knew that was coming, others, well, let's just say that the first 3.99 chapters were meant to mess with your mind!  Provides a sort of grim contrast to the bright and naïve child that we met in SS/PS, doesn't it.  Don't worry, the action doesn't stop there.  Coming next chapter is when we find out what Snape intends to do.  

Responses and Thanks.

Skull Bearer- Thank you.  I read your story 'My Worst Nightmare'.  That was cool, and I feel privileged to have made it on your favorites lists.  See, I wrote this story when I was feeling really depressed, although I wasn't in prison, my life made it feel that way.  Sometimes you just need those kind of fanfics.

Usagi Serenity Yui Cosmos- wow… that's a mouthful.  Why a bunny, though?  Um… I first would like to make the distinction between Evil and Dark.  Right now, he's both, meaning he uses Dark magic, he is depressive, and he uses it for sinister purposes.  But it is my belief that the Dark powers will become part of who he is, and he will stay Dark, no matter what.  Other than that, be patient, and wait… this fic is only about 20,000 words.  But the sequels???  And another fic called Essence of Darkness, that I am still writing?  You're gonna love that if you love this.  Different circumstances, but there are assassinations, jailbreaks, unlikely allies, and anarchists.

angelhitomi- Now you know.  And knowing is half the battle… (way too much GI Joe on TV as a child)  Thanks for your review.  Enjoy.

Veritas4eterntiy- as was evidenced earlier in the chapter, yes he is.  And he feels responsible for Harry for the very reasons that are listed above.  Both were posed the same choice, to join or die.  And he joined, later regretting the transgressions.  He feels responsible because he didn't guide the teen down the 'right' path.  Thanks for reviewing!

Maria- yes.  There was a line in the first chapter, second scene that said, "You know, your eyes look much better their original color."  That was to hint that he had been disguised, prior to being thrown into Azkaban.  It's why Snape doesn't recognize him at first, and also why he is surprised to find the boy a Parselmouth.  Thanks for your kind review!  But don't worry… they are magically silver, but they might revert if Voldemort's power over him is diminished (for some reason).

bee-  This is a superfluous response, but yes.  It is Harry.  Thanks for reviewing!

Katy999-  You're welcome, but keep in mind that the more often I update, the quicker it's over L  Thanks for the review.

HPIceAngel- Thanks for the compliment.  But you may want to have a look at my other fics… just in case this doesn't update every day any more.

tracev-  Thank you.  Would you believe I'm a biology major, and I can still write like this?  I have a best friend who is an English (creative writing) major and I find it tons easier to write than she does.

Maria- Thanks for reviewing again.  First off, don't apologize for anything!  Without people reading this and reviewing, I wouldn't post this as fast, if at all.  No, the Serpent's not presumed missing.  That much will be explained in Ch5, and Ch6 shows reactions to who it is…  Snape truly didn't want to believe it was who it was, because part of his belief in the possibility of redemption is that of the purity of the light.  Perhaps he only rates the shadows, but he believed that a Potter and Heir of Gryffindor would never fall to Darkness.  And about the wand, they never knew.  I said he wrote the letter, I never said it made it to the right people.  And they are upset, but the reasons they aren't mounting a rescue attempt are revealed in Ch5.  Ask questions.  It shows interest and keeps me on my toes.  Although, there are some questions that will not be answered until the final chapter!

petunia812002- Thank you.  I do try.  :P

Skull Bearer- Thanks.  I try to "keep the character in, well, character even with all that [I'm] doing to them"  One of my biggest pet peeve in fanfiction is when you read an authors writing, and you literally say to yourself, "There is no way in hell that he would ever do that," or when you find a leap of logic that makes no sense, and ends with you plummeting back to reality, analyzing their mistakes.  Glad I could make you shiver… it means I must be doing something right. J

Well, I'm off to run a 5K with my company.  Have a good day.  And if you get a chance, join my Yahoo group, called Tenebrae Summae.  It's Latin, and a gold star goes to the first five people to tell me what it means.  I would prefer proper grammar, but I realized that I forgot to use the genitive case, instead using nominative plural. (That's a big hint people.)  grrr.  It's listed in my profile, I think.  If not, leave your email and I will send the link to you directly.  


	5. Explanations

Snape deposited a sleeping Harry back onto his bed in Riddle Manor.  'How far the boy has fallen,' he thought as he replaced the coverlet.  'The Boy Who Lived has joined with the Dark Lord.  We failed him.  I failed him.'

Albus had Memory charmed him, and placed him in a deep slumber, before Snape removed him from the bonds.  Lupin had stayed very quiet after his last outburst, but Snape knew that he had been thinking of how to tell Black.

"Milord?" Snape asked, gently shaking the boy's shoulder.  "You dozed off, milord."

"Severus.  I'm sorry.  Did you need anything?" he asked, rubbing his eyes.

"No, just wanted to see if you required any more," Snape lied.

"No.  I think I'm just going to go to sleep tonight.  Severus, I haven't had the flu before.  Do aches usually come with it?" Harry asked, rubbing his wrists, where the cuffs had laid.

Snape mentally kicked himself.  He had forgotten to take care of that.  "Yes, milord.  Muscle aches are very common.  I have a potion for that as well," he said, handing him a green potion.

"Thank you, Severus.  If I didn't know better, I would think you were trying to coddle me," the teen replied, shifting himself on the bed.  "Would you send in the reptiles when you get a chance?"

"Of course, milord."  Snape walked to the door and left. 

Seemingly moments later, the three serpents slithered into the room and up the bedposts to Harry's side.  Cedar snaked around his right wrist, which caused him to flinch.  "Cedar, Alexander.  Watch the wrists.  They're a bit sore."  They nodded and moved up to his elbows.

Alexander sampled the air around Harry with his tongue.  "Milord, why do you smell of stale dirt and straw?"

Harry raised his eyebrows.  So, Snape wasn't being entirely honest with him.  "Do not ask questions of me, Alexander.  I do not need to explain myself to you."

"Yes, Master.  Of course not."

Paladin slithered across the covers.  "Master, we are glad that you are feeling better."

"Ah.  I'm happy to be better too."

Remus watched his friend nervously tap his foot in the chair in front of Dumbledore's desk.  No one had told Sirius the reason for this meeting, but he knew it couldn't be good.  Nothing that concerned the war recently brought good news, at least not since the Silver Serpent rose at Voldemort's side.

"Sirius, if you don't stop that, I'm going to have to bite your foot off on the next full moon," Remus said.  "You're not going to get detention this time, alright?  We've graduated, remember?"

"I'm sorry, it's just, he can usually talk to me by Floo," Sirius said, stopping his foot.  

"I know."

"Moony, what aren't you telling me?"

Volumes, but Remus couldn't bring himself to say anything.

Albus walked in, with Snape by his side.  "Sirius, Remus.  I'm glad you're here."

Snape took one look at Black and walked to the window.  

"Snape, did you get him back safely?" Lupin asked.  

"Of course.  Unfortunately, we forgot to deal with his wrists.  He noticed that something had happened.  I don't know how much he suspects," Snape said, sighing.

"What is going on?  Who are you talking about?"

"The Silver Serpent.  Severus managed to obtain him for a short questioning," Albus replied, sitting at his desk.

"So have you found out who he is?"

"Yes.  He is a former student of mine."

Sirius stopped.  "Well, what's his name?  We know who he is, we can find his weaknesses."

"Sirius, remember to breathe.  It's Harry."

Sirius laughed.  "Right.  The most dangerous and sinister Death Eater since Snape joined, and he's my godson."

"He admitted it, Black.  Of course, we Obliviated him as soon as we finished, and returned him to Riddle Manor," Snape replied, leaning against the wall.  

"Why would he betray us?"

"He was sent to Azkaban, Sirius…" Remus started, looking down.  "The Ministry thought he was guilty of murder, and Harry couldn't defend himself adequately."

            Sirius looked crushed.  "Azkaban?" he asked in horror.  "I wouldn't wish that place on my worst enemy, much less Harry."

            "Well, it seems that Fudge did.  He's the only one who could have had the final say in Harry's incarceration," Snape said, walking toward a bookshelf.  "He's the only one with the political clout to cover something of this magnitude."

            "You think he's hiding something?" Lupin asked.  

            "I can only suspect.  I can prove nothing.  One does not simply walk into his office and ask him what he has done with The Boy Who Lived."  

            "What can we do, Albus?" Sirius asked, looking at his boots.

            "You, Remus and I can do little at this point.  Severus, you must contact Harry on our behalf and attempt to talk him into coming to speak with the four of us."

            Snape looked at him, then laughed.  "You want me to inform Harry that we know his identity, and attempt to convince him to come speak with us. Would you like me to do this before or after he tries to kill me?"

            "Severus, it is imperative that the overture be made.  We must know what he does with regard to the Ministry," Albus said, standing and walking to the Potions Master.  "I have faith in your ability to reach him."

            Snape sighed.  "Yes, but you don't know him any more.  He just may hex me."

            Harry stood by the window at Riddle Manor looking out at the green spring foliage in the carefully manicured gardens.  Voldemort didn't care about the gardens, but someone evidently did.  Anticipating someone would come and want to speak to him, Harry drew the curtains to almost closed, and stood in the shadows looking out.

            A knock came on the door, and Harry sighed.  "Come in."

            "Milord.  I came to check on you.  You are hurt?" Snape said, walking closer to him and handing the teen a handkerchief.

            "Am I?" he looked down, then ran his hand across his face.  He was bleeding rather profusely on his right cheek.  "Ah, they actually hit me with the slashing hex.  Their aim is improving."  Harry smiled and pressed the cloth to his face.  Seeing Severus' face, his face dropped.  "What _is it_?"

            "Milord, I saw your scar."

            "So that's why you have been acting so strange lately."  He turned back to the window.  "Have you told Dumbledore yet?"

            "No.  But he knows anyways," Snape replied.

            "Did I finally manage to piss that man off?"

            "Yes," Severus sighed.  "As a matter of fact, you did.  I was unaware that you were capable of angering him.  Was it your attempt, milord?"

            "No.  But under the circumstances, I would say that it was not entirely unexpected, would you, Severus?" Harry said, dabbing at his cheek again.  They lapsed into a silence.  "Severus, your mind is a great asset to the both of us, but I can only benefit from its use if you tell me what is on it."

            "Harry – milord, tell me what is going on."

            "Playing the caring father, Snape?  That's Voldemort's role," Harry retorted, laughing.  He stopped and moved closer.  "You know precisely what's going on."

            "May I speak frankly with you, milord?"

            "No, Severus, not here," Harry whispered, summoning his coat.

            Remus sat in a chair in front of the fireplace in Albus' office, chatting quietly about the war with the wizard, while Sirius lay in Animagi form by his side.  Remus patted the silent dog reassuringly as he waited for Albus to speak again.  "What are you waiting on, Headmaster?"

            "Severus is coming to give a report of his daily activities.  Do try to be civil, gentlemen."

            Sirius snorted and lay his head down on his paws.  

            A knock came on the door.

            "Come in, Severus."

            Snape strode in, then paused at the door and closed it.  "Albus," Snape said, shaking his head as Sirius transformed.

            "Are you okay, Severus?"

            "Yes, Albus.  I was unaware that you were meeting with the canines.  Shall I return later?" he asked dryly.

            "No.  They can hear this.  Anything to report?"

            "I have new intelligence for the Order."

            Sirius walked closer.  "It finally happened.  Snape bought a brain cell," he retorted.

            "Yes.  After all these years, you've worn out the one that you've been using, Black," Snape shot back.

            "Gentlemen, that is enough," Dumbledore cut in, sighing.  "Severus, how did your meeting go?"

            He turned toward the corner.  "I'd say that it went rather well, wouldn't you, milord?"

            Harry appeared, lounging in an armchair with one leg thrown over the corresponding arm.  He was dressed in all black, including his now trademark jacket.  His jaw length black hair was highlighted with chunks of silver, and his wintry eyes gleamed dangerously.  He cracked his knuckles, then folded his hands in his lap and seemed to have an expression of pure apathy on his face.  The cut had ceased bleeding, but the trail of red still lay on his cheek, providing a single streak of color on the otherwise pale face.  "Perhaps, Severus.  That much remains to be seen."

            "Thank you for coming."

            Harry glared at Dumbledore.  "I came at Severus' request, not yours, Dumbledore," he snapped.

            Sirius restrained the urge to move closer and take Harry in his arms.  This wasn't his godson.  Harry Potter would never take that tone with Dumbledore, or completely ignore his godfather.  "Hello, Harry."

            Harry turned to look at Sirius and Remus.  "Well, well, well.  Isn't this a kick in the teeth?  I thought the three of you wouldn't be in the same room unless it was for a funeral so you could spit on the other's casket," he said wryly.

            "We have put aside a vast majority of our differences to deal with the important issues," Remus replied quietly.

            Harry snorted in disgust.  "And somehow, I have become involved with one of these 'important issues'?"

            "No, Harry, you are the important issue," Sirius said.

            "How very touching, Black," Harry spat.  "Get on with it, Severus.  My absence must not be discovered, or we will both be in a great deal of danger."

            "Of course, milord.  Albus, here is what I have pieced together.  Sometime during the past summer, Harry's wand went missing for a week.  He wrote as much in a missive addressed to you, but the letter was never delivered, most likely due to some Ministry interference.  The husband and wife Auror team, the allies of ours, which died in late June, were believed to be murdered using the Killing Curse, but the only wand found at the scene was Harry's."

            Harry laughed bitterly.  "As if I would be foolish enough to leave it there," he muttered.  "I may be many things, but I am far from stupid."

            Snape continued.  "But Fudge knew that public opinion would prevent Harry from receiving the punishment that he thought the teen deserved.  So, he lied to everyone, and acknowledged the return of the Dark Lord so that others wouldn't believe that he was taking Harry in for anything but protective custody.  Fudge sent him to Azkaban, and forbid him to use his name, for fear of swaying someone who came to visit.  And since he had acknowledged Voldemort's return, he could hold Harry indefinitely without trial, under the martial law that he declared."

            Harry and Sirius both reacted at the name of Azkaban.  Sirius' eyes took on their haunted look, and Harry's glinted with rage.

            "Harry was indeed found by Voldemort…"

            "He is your Lord, Severus," Harry reproved, harshly.  "Do not let him hear you say his name in that way."

            "My apologies, milord.  Lord Voldemort, who took him from the prison and the rest you know."

            "How did Voldemort find you?" Dumbledore asked Harry.  

            "Avery was placed in the cell next to me for a month of my incarceration.  He claims that I kept him from suicide and praised me in front of the Dark Lord.  They found me in my cell, and refused to let me die, as I wanted.  You see, he turned coincidence to his advantage, a strong suit of his.  He didn't know that I was there, but he decided to take me along anyways," Harry replied.  "He cared for me and treated me as a son and protégé.  And he has shown me love, something I have been deprived of my whole life, Dumbledore.  _Because of you."_

--

Well… Thanks are in order for my multitudinous reviewers!

Amy- thanks.  I did.  Hope you enjoyed DarkLord'sSon!Harry in this chapter…

angelhitomi- thank you.  I enjoy them too.

Maria- don't worry… he's not dead yet.  and keep looking hopeful… it could happen

Snape coolgirl- hope that explained part of his back-story… otherwise, it will come out soon.

Kynight- thank you.  I hate repetitive fan fiction.

Jayce- I like Dark!Harry too.  You'll just have to wait and see… but even if you don't like what I am doing, you still need to read through to the end of my 3rd story in this arc.  Otherwise, you may not get what you wish for… hint hint…

Wittchway- thanks

RaistlinofMetallica- Close enough.  hint.  Summa means the whole… often used to replace the Latin word Mundus…  Since tenebrae is fem. pl. anyways, I thought I would use a fem pl noun as well.

amy- I hate those type of Harry in Azkaban fics… we'll see what happens next… because I just realized that I skipped a crucial scene, and must rewrite it for ch6.

Nicole- don't worry… I had planned on it.  Even if only one person read it, I would still finish it.

Heather- I hope you did end up waiting… sorry if you exploded because you couldn't.  :P

HPIceAngel- thanks.  

Katy999- see Raistlin's note… maybe it would help… but even if you never get it… you get a gold star for being my Beta!

Futon- *listens to the Mighty Mighty Bosstones in your honor*  Thanks.  Here's more

xikum- Hope the email answered some of your questions.  I enjoy answering them.  –S

Usagi Serenity Yui Cosmos- may I call you Usagi? :P  Anyways, hang on to your seat and wait.  This fic will be over before you know it… and you'll hate me if I tell you too soon.  Thanks for reading Fire and Ice as well.  That's one of my faves too… and I don't care if it's factually incorrect… it's the principle of the thing :)

Veritas4Eternity- I dunno.  Allow me to spill my sadness.  It's been 4 years since my last date.  So romance is something I have no experience with… it's pretty pathetic.  In terms of relationships… you sorta get hit with it in Ch 6.  But so yeah… I have no experience writing anything more than kissing in terms of slash or het.  If it fits in the story, it goes in… if it doesn't, you don't see it.  Right now, sex is not a big thing in SS… so again… I dunno:P

izean- See above.  Thanks for reviewing.

Skull Bearer- *blushes profusely and ducks under computer desk*  First of all… with School of Shadows, I didn't want to be the idiot who had to read it twice before she realized who the character was… but wouldn't it be great if a certain raven-haired Gryffindor went there? :P  But other than that… I did review… just waited a bit until I got everything meshed in my mind.  Sorry.  Thanks for being a faithful reviewer.

Dark-past- Thanks.  PEACE!

Asha Dreamweaver- Thanks.  Hopes this answers one (or more) of your questions.  At present, he rivals Voldemort in power, because Voldemort holds nothing back from him… and he possesses wandless magic.  In the future?  We'll see. :P  PS… I love your fic History Repeats Itself.  You update!  No!  You!

me- (no, not me.  you)  Thank you so much.  I feel really good about this series of stories that I am writing (starting with the Silver Serpent).  I dunno if I will ever write anything worth publishing, like really *publishing*… but I hope that my ideas entertain well, and you never know.  Maybe JK will use some of my plots to give her a head start on the rest of the series.

By the way, on my yahoo egroup poll, Fire and Ice now leads for favorite fanfic by this author.  If you want to say otherwise, please vote!!!

Go ahead… make my day… please review.  (Okay, so I'm not really Clint Eastwood.  *shrugs*)


	6. Darkness of My Soul

            Tell me how much you love me.  I am sorry for the delay, but life sucks.  Leave me your email, and I might tell you why.  PS, getting tons of reviews per chapter so… if you have questions you want detailed answers to, let me know, and maybe I will email them to you.  But thank you all for reviewing.

"[I] have felt darkness lead me by the hand

Over the hill to greet the singing dawn...."

Allen Tate (1899–1979). "Suicide."

Chapter 6:  From The Darkness of My Soul

            "Harry, I loved you," Sirius protested.

            "And out of my entire life, how long did you actually spend in my presence?" Harry shouted.  "Not very damn long, I can tell you that.  The first time that I met you, I was 13.  And the next time I actually saw you in person was at the end of that godforsaken tournament, which you left after spending maybe one conscious minute with me."  Harry pushed himself out of his chair, coat billowing around him as he walked to the window.  "My Lord has spent the last 3 months cultivating my powers and some days, just being present."

            "He does care for the boy, Albus," Snape whispered.  He walked to Harry and handed him another cloth.  "Your face is bleeding again, milord," he added, _sotto voce_.

            Harry did not turn, but held out his hand and murmured, "Thank you, Severus."  Snape put the cloth in his hand and retreated to a respectful distance.  A single metallic tear rolled from Harry's left eye, and it left a trail of silver down his cheek.  Harry pressed the handkerchief to his face, and whispered a healing spell.  Here he was with the three people who had seemed to love him most, and he could feel nothing but hatred for them and the one man that had seemed to hate him the most, and he cared for Severus enough to die for him.

            Gently, his right hand went to stroke his left forearm, sadly caressing the outline of the Dark Mark that was forever etched into his skin.  They could never understand the darkness in his heart, reflected on his arm… could never appreciate the choice he had to make.  But Severus did.  Severus already understood.  How strange that his kindred soul had ceased to be the girl of his dreams and became the man associated with many of his nightmares.  Silver eyes swept over Severus' dark figure, before he looked back out the window, mournfully.

            Remus watched the Boy Who Lived stand there.  A single touch of his skin would probably be enough to kill the lycanthrope, which was probably why he had avoided all physical contact.

            "Harry, by your attendance at this meeting, can we expect any assistance from your end in our fight with Voldemort?"

            Harry laughed coldly, but didn't turn from the window.  

            Sirius and Remus looked at one another in confusion.  "What is it?" Remus asked.

            "You have not heard a single word I have said, Albus.  How predictable of you.  I have neither the capability nor the desire to defy Voldemort.  I love him as a father and believe in what he intends to do," he replied, walking to the old man's desk and pressing his finger on it for emphasis.  "The Ministry is corrupt and weak, you two must agree with that," he said, turning to Remus and Sirius.  "It locked one of you up in prison for 12 years and has meant a lifetime of discrimination for the other."

            "What milord is meaning to say is that he is physically unable to defy Voldemort.  The tattoo on his right arm is part of an elaborate spell affectionately referred to as an Obedience Mark.  It causes him great pain to speak words of sedition against his Master," Snape added, as Harry stared down his previous professor.

            "Harry, why have you not revealed Severus as a spy?" Remus asked.

            "Would you care to answer that, my servant?" Harry asked, turning to the Potions Master before returning to the corner.  "I know you are aware of the reason."

            Severus nodded deferentially.  "Power."

            Harry smiled wickedly.  "Essentially correct.  Severus understands that I hold his very life in my hand.  And though he has betrayed me to you on more than one occasion, I know exactly where to squeeze if he tries to stray too far.  Besides, I need someone who I trust is competent enough in the Art of Potions not to poison me by accident, unlike some of the other buffoons that my Master insists on keeping around."

            "Milord, he believes them loyal," Severus protested.

            "Most of them are brainless, dim-witted fools who couldn't find their asses with both hands and a flashlight.  And those that are not entirely inept are fanatical.  Like Malfoy, Avery and Pettigrew.  Or should I say Pettigrew _was_ fanatical, before I accused him of insubordinance and had him thrown into the dungeons?  He is yours if you wish it, Black.  I'd really like to see what you would do with him if left in a locked room," Harry snapped, smiling at Sirius.

            "Your answer is no?" Remus asked.

            Harry clapped slowly and sarcastically.  "Welcome to the conversation, Lupin.  You're only a few minutes behind, but I'm certain that if we all shut up for a few moments, you'll catch up rather quickly."

            Sirius stood up and walked over to Harry.  "Harry, you don't have to respect me, but you will respect Remus."

            Harry stared him down.  "Oh really, Black.  And exactly why should I?  He abandoned me just like the rest of you.  I would love for you to try and teach me respect, when I could hex you into a million pieces without my wand and kill him with a single tear," he barked, changing his posture to reflect that of a dangerous feral cat.

            Remus stepped forward to take Sirius' arm.  "Let it go, Padfoot."

            "No.  Harry, you're right.  I may not have known you for very long, but this is not the Harry Potter I know.  And I don't want to.  You have betrayed the light, and you have allowed yourself to be Marked by that… that monster.  I don't know who would want to kill you more, James or Lily."

            "I am wounded by your words, especially as you are threatening me with the memories of people I never even knew.  Can you not see that I am being reduced to a mass of quivering goo?  I don't have time for this, Severus.  I'm leaving," Harry said, walking to the doorway.  He pulled open the door and it shut on its own.  "Release the door, old man," he hissed, turning to face Dumbledore.

            "I shall not, until I am through with you, Harry," the wizard said with cold fury, rising from his desk.  Even Snape backed away, wanting to get out of the path of any stray hexes.  Both wizards stared each other down, one a vision of pure white light: reason, love, order and wisdom, the other of the shadows that covered the world: dark, chaotic, passionate and intelligent.  Snape knew that shadow could not exist without light, and that no one light could ever truly defeat every dark place.

            "Believe me when I say that we are through with each other.  We both know of Fudge's incompetence and stupidity, but only one of us is willing to rid our world of him.  You may not approve of my methods, but I am right," he replied.

            "There are other alternatives than bloodshed and anarchy."

            "Really… and what have you been doing that has worked so well?  You couldn't even protect me any more.  What makes you think that you could take on Fudge?" he said, placing his back against the door.  "Your powers have diminished with age, but mine increase daily.  Another gift from my Master."

            "Milord, please do not do this," Severus said, attempting to intercede, but Harry froze him with a single gesture.

            "Stay out of this, servant!"

            "Your gifts will destroy you.  He made you his heir to take you off of the side of good."

            Harry laughed.  "Good.  Evil.  There exists no such concept in this world, except in the minds of the dreamers.  There is only power, and those too weak to seek it," he said, echoing the words of Voldemort from his first year.

            "Power can be used for either good or evil, Harry."

            Harry muttered, "'Why then, 'tis none to you; for there is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so: to me it is a prison.'"

            "You have read Hamlet.  I see your education has continued."

"It has, Dumbledore.  I will listen to no more of your words, for they are just that.  You see, there are three parts to every change.  Thought, word and action.  I am a man of action, my dear Headmaster, and I will rid the world of the Ministry stooges who have stolen my life.  You may sit and talk, if you so desire."

            "You forget.  I defeated Grindewald.  If forced to, I could defeat both you and Voldemort."

            Harry smiled, and moved away from the door.  

            "What are you smiling at, Harry?" Remus asked.

            "Patience.  A lesson that my Lord tried to teach me.  When I was in Azkaban, I lost a great many things, like patience, innocence, hope and my real life.  Lord Voldemort attempted to help me regain them.  While you were talking, Dumbledore, I just broke your spell," he said, opening the door, and disappearing.

            Snape stumbled forward, as the shield that held him disappeared.  With a quick look at the Headmaster, he ran out the door to follow Harry.

            The Headmaster looked his age for the first time in years.  He sighed and closed his eyes.  

            "Is he right?  Has his power really increased?" Sirius asked quietly.

            "Severus said that he saw Harry curse 4 men under Cruciatus simultaneously to protect him from suspicion.  I would say that he had increased in both wanded and wandless powers.  I had hoped that Harry would be amenable to at least talking with us, but we seemed to have pushed him farther," Albus said, walking back to his desk.

            "What do you mean?"

            "Remus, you can sense emotions on certain people, can't you?"

            "Yes.  Harry was rather apathetic, because like he said, Snape pretty much dragged him here.  But when he went to the window, he was in emotional pain from the memories of, well, I'd say, betrayal and the loss of our friendship.  When he spoke of Voldemort, he spoke with a tone of love.  And when he just spoke with you, it was anger, a bit of pleading and then triumph.  He was stalling you, but he wanted you to understand.  Pretty interesting that although he can't stand us anymore, he still wanted your approval."

            "He has cast the Unforgivables in plain sight?" Sirius asked, changing the subject.

            Albus looked up from his desk.  "No.  That is the one thing that can save him.  He has only ever cast the Dark Mark, and the odd restraining or summoning spell in public.  He chooses to curse his Death Eaters in private, and who would believe their story over his?  In the mindset of the Ministry, they are both guilty," he replied.  "But Severus believes that there might be a time when Harry will be called upon to kill Fudge to prove his loyalty.  There are other curses that cause death besides Avada Kedavra, but it is all up to what Harry chooses."

            "What about the Obedience Mark?" Remus asked.  "Doesn't that prove Harry's loyalty enough?"

            Albus chose that moment to shut up.  He didn't want to reveal the true depth of Harry's ultimate betrayal.  "I do not know what Voldemort may be thinking."

            "Milord, wait!" Severus called from down the hallway.

            Harry did not turn, but said, "Go away, Severus.  I have no doubt that you have more to discuss with regards to the downfall of my father."  He continued walking, but not changing the pace or length of his strides.

            Snape caught up with him, then grabbed Harry's arm a little too roughly.  Harry stopped dead in his tracks and looked from the Potions Master's hand to his servant's eyes.  

            "Don't touch me, Severus," he snarled.  "Unless there is a potion to regrow an entire hand."

            Snape dropped his hand quickly.  "Milord, I must explain some things to you.  Please wait a moment."

            "Severus, what time is it?" he asked pedantically.

            "5:30."

            "And what time does my father like to talk to me every night?"

            "6:00, I apologize, milord."  Snape finally realized the reason for the confrontation.  

            "Yes.  It will take me at least 15 minutes from this point to reach the Apparition barrier, and I don't want to have to run to the castle and explain why I am out of breath," he said, walking again, but turning around to talk to Severus.

            A lone student was wandering the halls, hands full of books and ran straight into him.  Books flew everywhere, and Harry looked down at the girl.  Unkempt brown hair and beautiful eyes seemed to bore right through him.  

            Harry's heart melted at the sight of the first woman that he had truly loved, and the last as well.  He had never had the chance to tell her, though, and it weighed on his heart from the time in Azkaban to the attack on Hogsmeade.  "Hermione," he whispered.  He backed up like a cornered animal.

            Severus noticed his distress.  "Go, milord, I will deal with her."

            He turned quickly, flaring his jacket, and ran away.

            Hermione recovered from the shock of being knocked to the floor.  She looked up, and saw the retreating form of the Silver Serpent.  "What the hell is going on?" she asked, drawing her wand.  "What is there to deal with?  Why is he here?"

            "Be quiet, Granger.  There is more going on here than you know.  To the Headmasters office with you," Snape said, picking up more than one of the books.  "Locator Charms: When All Else Fails, Find Them?"

            "It's for Harry.  It's been nearly 9 months since anyone's heard from him," she said quietly.  

            "I see.  You definitely need to see Dumbledore."

--00--

And now thanks for reviewing.

Thanks to:

xikum, Rene994 (Stay tuned, no matter what, okay?  I promise), ZetaStar, Maria, Usagi, izean, amy, universalstar87, RaistlinofMetallica, Kateri (Yes, sorta), Katy999 (hope you enjoyed your vacation), Skull Bearer ( I 'spose… your fic, anyways :P ), Anne Phoenix, me (yes, me), Rarity88, Snape coolgirl, Els-chan (interesting use of the word wow… :P), Star Mage, Kaat ShadowLover, andrea56 (I changed it just for you… he _was), andrea56 again, angelhitomi, lynntownsend, Tati Suji, em (um… chuckles nervously at the tackle, but thanks for the plushies), Lady FoxFire, MostEvilKitten, me (again), rayvern, Kat Denton_

By the way, Rarity88 I have a yaoi fic in the works… very dark and tragic.  My friends like it… Definitely HP/SS.  Actually, have two HP/SS, but unfortunately, neither is finished yet.

Next Chapter:  Hermione's reaction, and back at Riddle Manor!


	7. Cry 'Havoc'

Disclaimer is in the first chapter.  I don't own them, except for the idea of the Silver Serpent, and I don't make any money from this.  That's why I need a job.

I apologize for the delay in posting this.  Please read the Authors Note at the bottom and forgive me.

This chapter should prove that it's R for a reason.  If you can't stand gore, skip it.

Chapter 7:  Cry 'Havoc'

            _"And Cæsar's spirit, ranging for revenge, With Até by his side come hot from hell, Shall in these confines with a monarch's voice Cry Havoc and let slip the dogs of war; That this foul deed shall smell above the earth With carrion men, groaning for burial…"  Julius C_æ_sar, Act 3, Scene 1_

            "Miss Granger, what brings you to my office at this time of night?" the now genial wizard asked from his desk.

            Remus and Sirius stood in the corner, with Remus obviously trying to calm the other wizard.

            "Actually, our guest did not bother with the invisibility charm on the way out," Snape explained.  "He ran into Granger, which means that she had far too many questions, and I believe she is in need of direction regarding these books," he said, handing the book to the Headmaster.

            "These are to locate Harry?"  Hermione flinched even though Snape's voice was absent his usual venom.  

            "Yes, Headmaster."

            He nodded, then sighed, his blue eyes devoid of their usual twinkle.  "Miss Granger, what I am about to tell you must not leave this room.  I asked the Silver Serpent here tonight to discuss his alliance with Voldemort.  We had an argument and he left in a fit of rage."

            Her jaw dropped.  "Why?"

            "You must be more precise as to what you are asking, Miss Granger," he replied.  "Do you wish to know why I asked him here or why we had an argument?"

            "Why did you feel you should bring him here?" she asked incredulously.  

            "I knew him before his alliance with Voldemort, and I had hoped to reach him and return him to the side of good."

            "Albus, an interesting side note.  He appears to be in love with Granger," Snape interjected.

            Sirius looked like he was about to cry.  "He is.  He told me so once," he whispered.

            "Wait, Sirius, you know him too?"

            Sirius looked to Albus for the right words to say.

            "The reason why I must forbid you to use these books to find Harry is the same as the reason that Sirius knows the Silver Serpent," he replied gently.  "The Silver Serpent is the pseudonym of a 16 year old boy that Voldemort rescued from Azkaban.  He was sent there without trial, and was adopted by Voldemort as a son, because he was an orphan."

            She looked like a 500-ton atom bomb had been dropped on her.  For a few moments, the girl's mouth opened and closed without sound, and then she ran her fingers through her shoulder-length hair.  "You're trying to tell me that my best friend Harry Potter is not only in love with me, but went to Azkaban and is now the most feared of all the Death Eaters?" she shouted, her voice escalating with each word.

            Severus pretended to clear his ears.  "Thank Merlin for silencing charms.  Otherwise, the entire castle would know about Potter."

            "Yes, Miss Granger.  He was accused of murder and Fudge sent him to prison for nearly 6 months," Remus replied.  "Believe me, I know it's him."

            Tears began to fall down her cheeks.  "But he's… he's so cold and callous… and cruel to everyone.  I mean, he ordered those people killed like they were animals!"

            "I'm sorry, Hermione," Sirius said, taking the girl into his arms, because his godson couldn't or wouldn't embrace either of them.

            "He never told me," she whimpered, between sobs.

            "I know.  He told me that he didn't know how to tell you without messing up his friendship with Ron, and the possibility that Ron and you would end up together was too great.  He loves you, but Ron was a brother to him, and he couldn't stand to end up losing you both because of that.  He wasn't certain that you loved him in that way, either," he said, rubbing her back.

            "Miss Granger, you realize why we must ask you to keep this a secret until we can figure out what to do with regard to Voldemort and Harry."

            She nodded, saying nothing.

            "Would you like me to return the books, or would you like to do so yourself, Miss Granger?" the Headmaster asked, standing up again.

            "I'll take them back, since Madame Pince didn't know that I had them," she admitted, through hiccups.

            "Miss Granger, take as much time as you need to calm yourself before returning to your Common Room."

            She nodded and picked up the books to return them to the Library.

            After the door closed again, Albus turned to Snape.  "What do you think we should do about this, Severus?"

            "I am uncertain.  The influence she seemed to have over him could push him farther, because he believes himself incapable of ever being able to possess her, or bring him back because of his love for her overcoming all others.  It depends on the emotional state I find him in when I return to Riddle Manor in a few minutes.  By the way, the reason Harry was in such a rush was because Voldemort likes for Harry to share the evening meal with him, and Harry was almost late.  Had Voldemort found out that Harry was here, even as a favor to me, he might have been tortured or killed," he said, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

            "Be careful, Severus."

            "I always am, Albus."

            He found Harry later that evening, after the boy had finished dinner with his father.  "Milord, how are you?"

            Harry laughed hollowly, before casting a silencing charm around the library.  "You mean aside from the fact that I couldn't stop thinking about Hermione all during dinner, and almost said her name twice in front of Lord Voldemort?" he said, removing his coat, and pulling a book down from the shelves in the library.  "That would have been good, to blurt out the name of a Muggleborn witch from my old life in the middle of dinner with the head of the Death Eaters, who are notorious for their preference of purebloods."

            "What do you read, milord?"

            "Another book that Lord Voldemort would no doubt find contraband, were it not that Shakespeare was a wizard.  The collected sonnets.  Maybe I should be reading Julius Caesar instead.  I could use a good 'blood-and-guts' story, and preferably everyone will die."  Harry's silver eyes gleamed in the candle light.  "After all, that much of literature is truth.  Everybody gets stabbed in the back someday… sometimes by your own heart."

            "Milord, Hermione knows of your identity and your affection for her.  She returns it," Snape said gently.

            Harry set the book down on a couch and collapsed beside it.  "She knows."

            "Yes, milord, she does.  And she wept when she discovered the depth of your love, because she felt the same way," Snape said, kneeling before him.  "Milord, you must breathe."

            Harry dejectedly lay his head against the back of the couch and closed his eyes, face toward the ceiling.  "I can't… Severus, I loved her, and I would have done anything for her, but I cannot leave my father."  Tears fell down his face, leaving silver pools on his black sleeveless shirt.  "I cannot turn back to the ideals that I held in my former years, Severus.  I cannot believe that the world is all light and goodness when I have seen the corruption of indifferent men, and the failure of good ideas because no one implements them.  I trusted him, Severus.  I trusted Dumbledore and his incompetent lackeys to look after me, and where did it end me up?  A one way ticket to Azkaban, no waiting.  And before that, I had a lifetime of slavery to greedy, stupid, arrogant Muggles!  How could I possibly want to protect people like them?"

            Snape was quiet for a moment, then whispered.  "And yet you have not killed them yet.  You possess the power, the motive…"

            Harry's eyes opened again.  "Are you saying that I am a coward?  That I lack resolve, Severus?" he demanded sharply.

            "No… merely pointing out that in your quest for revenge… no Muggles have suffered."

            "Yet," Harry retorted with deadly calm.  

            Snape tried a different angle.  "You have not even killed a wizard yet."

            "Again there is that word.  'Yet.'  As in, 'the world has not come to an end, yet.'  You assume much, Severus.  Ask me what my Lord told me at the evening meal," he replied softly.  "Go ahead.  Ask me."

            "What did he tell you?"

            "That the first time he would ask me to execute a man would soon come.  And it would not be one of these mindless servants.  It would be the man who ruined my life.  And I am to kill him in plain sight… for all the world to see, Severus.  I cannot say that fact doesn't give me a small amount of pleasure.  I can't wait to see the life drain from his body… to see that expression of abject fear and horror that he visited upon me.  I don't even want to kill him magically.  I want to slit his throat and watch him have the time to beg for mercy, but be unable to speak.  I want to strangle him in my bare hands… to have to wash the blood from them.  And do you know why?" Harry asked harshly.

            "Because Azkaban also stole your mercy."

            The teen nodded and got to his feet, carrying the book back to the shelf.  "It's strange, you know?  I can remember everything that happened to me as a child.  And now I can see what happened to me as though it was in a Pensieve.  I can remember meeting Hagrid, coming to Hogwarts, making friends with Ron and Hermione…  I can even remember watching Cedric die for the first time.  I even remember how it felt the first time I believed that someone loved me."  He set it down, and selected another of Shakespeare's works.  "Live a thousand years,   I shall not find myself so apt to die.'  Severus.  I do not fear death.  It would be a blessing.  And were it not that my Lord has forbidden self-injury, I would have killed myself long ago.  Thanks to my father, I know neither fear nor passion except in the shedding of blood.  I can remember exactly how it felt to love, and to be loved.  And yet I cannot.  I am **incapable** of loving that Mudblood anymore.  And yet… I cannot kill her."

            Snape watched as Harry crossed to the window and placed his fingers interlocked on top of his black hair.  

            "Would you believe that I am likewise incapable of loving my godfather?  I can love no one but Voldemort.  Nothing but his will.  And besides him, you are the only one I can trust.  I couldn't even find solace unless he wished it.  He even severed the link that we had, knowing how bad it pained me.  And he wishes me to kill Fudge.  I don't care.  I want it.  And yet some very annoying piece of shit voice somewhere is nagging me that I should care and I shouldn't want it.  Why can't I shut that damn voice up?"

            Severus smiled and laughed quietly.  "I'm sorry.  I have yet to discover that as well, milord."

            "I should have guessed."

            "I wouldn't believe you still human if you didn't retain that voice.  It got a bit quieter in Azkaban, didn't it?"

            Harry shrugged.  "Many things did."

            There was silence as the stern Potions Master searched for something to say.  

            Harry stood, caressing the burnt flesh that marked his left arm.  "I often wonder why you stay with me, Severus," he whispered breathlessly.  "I have done nothing worth your devotion.  I never have."

            Snape got to his feet.  "And I have?"

            "You've saved my life time and time again.  The broom…"

            He smiled.  "And many others.  But I cannot repay the number of times you have protected me, Potter.  Even now you do so."

            Harry walked to Severus, and pulled up the older man's sleeve, placing his hand on the Mark.  "I think that this is some kind of penance for you… repaying a debt of the heart you feel you could never live with.  You feel that I made a mistake… and wish to help me see the 'error of my ways'.  Am I at least partially correct?"

            Snape stiffened.  "Yes, I believe you are."

            Harry sighed.  "I see.  So it is not loyalty to me that binds you to my side… just an overdeveloped sense of loyalty to my birth father and Dumbledore."  Quietly he walked towards the library door to return to his bedroom for the night.

            "Harry… that's not it at all," Snape said, stumbling over the words.  

            Harry turned, his silver eyes blazing in the half-light.  "Then what is **it, Severus?  Tell me, because I don't understand.  I cannot love you, nor anyone.  I cannot truly trust you, nor anyone, and I have no desire to help Dumbledore in his attempt to overthrow this cause," he hissed.  "I believe in my father's ideals and I hate the Ministry.  I want to watch the entire place burn, and I will kill as many of them as I want until the blood runs in the streets!"**

            Snape allowed silence to fall, but before Harry could leave again, he stepped closer to whisper to him.  "Because when it is all over, you must live with what the others have done.  And there is the very real possibility that neither of us will live past the final battle.  The Aurors will do anything to kill you, and neither side trusts me, save a few people.  When I leave this room, I will be taunted and watched by both sides.  I will not survive this.  I know.  The Aurors would kill me without a second chance.  Once my usefulness to your father runs out, I would be killed… probably at your hand.  And even if Dumbledore managed to keep me alive, in a safe-house somewhere, there is no guarantee that my life will be worth living.  So tell me again that I am doing this for anyone but the two of us, and you will be mistaken.  I do it because I know what it is like to be alone.  I do it because I see in you what I hate in myself.  I have sworn to stand by your side even unto death, and I will do that, Potter.  For one, I would rather die than live a coward for the rest of my days.  That is the difference.  Gryffindors may be brave, but Slytherins survive with their dignity or they don't survive at all.  In the end, it's all we have in the face of this world.  Our names.  I am Severus Eamonn Snape, and I shall never beg for mercy, or break my word.  Do you understand?"

            Harry looked away, until Snape grabbed his chin and angled his eyes so that they met.

            "Harry, I have a life debt to your father, that much is true.  I have a debt of honor to Dumbledore.  However, I have sworn my life to Voldemort.  It is not my own as long as he remains alive.  I am pulled in so many directions at once, and I do not even control my own destiny.  Do you have any idea how that feels, or are you so blinded by this damned Mark that you are incapable of feeling such?"

            "You know what that place is like, Severus!  How it strips everything from you," Harry spat, wrenching his face away.

            "Then stop using Azkaban as a crutch," Snape murmured gently.  "You have lost.  You may very well have lost everything, but only if you give up what you want because it pains you so."

            Harry flinched.  

            Realization dawned on Snape's face as he visibly took a step back.  "You can't stand to be happy, can you?  You never could.  And now… you have the perfect excuse for letting out all of the abuse and neglect that everyone in your life has visited upon you.  You are a Death Eater, and it is all about revenge."

            Harry smirked to try and hide the vacant expression in his eyes.  "It's amazing what happens when a seemingly good person is pushed to far, isn't it?  There's such freedom when you stop caring about everything.  The obedience mark doesn't hold me as much as he thinks.  It's a wicked tattoo though.  But in truth, I have only two things left to lose.  My mind is one, and the other is my life."

            Snape started to protest, but Harry cut him off.

            "You should return to Hogwarts before you are further missed.  Good night, Severus."

            "And what of Miss Granger?"

            Harry stiffened.  "She must not believe that I love her… or my death will finish her.  I leave it to your discretion.  She was the only one who was ever kind to me… I do not wish her fate to be so cruel."  With that, the teen walked from the room, his footsteps echoing down the hall as the silence charm on the room evaporated.  

            Snape sighed and walked in the opposite direction.  Harry was right.  Snape needed to return to the school, but he detested leaving Harry in this place.  _I shouldn't have pushed.  None of us should have.  And now the rest of the world will feel the pain of our mistakes.  But how much of his old life is truly gone… and how much is he hiding from the rest of the world.  My life exists only because of his mercy._

            Harry walked through the hallway to his rooms, only to find Avery waiting for him.  "Joseph.  What is it?"

            "Lord Voldemort requires your presence in the dungeons, milord," was the simple response.  

            Harry stiffened.  Surely Lord Voldemort had not heard what Severus had told Harry earlier.  "But of course.  I live only to serve his will, Joseph.  Lead the way."

            The older Death Eater nodded and led Harry down the stairs and away from the living quarters.  The dungeons were fairly new, and had been magically created in the time since Voldemort's rebirth.  Harry kept his hand within reaching distance of his wand with every step, just in case.  He hadn't really betrayed Voldemort, but he was allowing a spy to continue reporting on their efforts to destroy the Ministry.  Surely that wasn't something that a loyal Death Eater would do.

            Joseph nodded to Lucius Malfoy and MacNair who were waiting outside.  They bowed to Harry and allowed him to enter, to see a waiting Voldemort and a fat muggle trussed like a Christmas turkey.  

            Harry's blood boiled.  "Good evening, Milord."

            "My dear boy.  Look who I have managed to find for you," Voldemort said, placing his hand on Harry's shoulder and walking to stand behind him.  He stroked Harry's cheek as Harry's silver eyes burned into the muggle.  

            "Vernon," Harry spat.

            Voldemort nodded and turned Harry around.  "I have never asked you to kill anyone or anything yet.  Not even at your Marking, when others have had to kill Muggles, were you forced to.  Therefore I ask that you kill this one… and show them that you are no different than they," he said, bending over to whisper in Harry's ear.

            Silver met crimson and Harry nodded tightly.  "I've been waiting for this, father."

            Voldemort smiled and withdrew a dagger from his robes and handed it to Harry by the hilt.  "Excellent.  You may proceed."

            Harry took the dagger and looked at it for a moment.  It was elegant and held a serpent twisting around the handle.  It had a serrated edge and the other side was a clean sweeping blade.  "Exquisite.  Thank you."  He walked to Vernon and wrenched the gag from his mouth.  "My dear Uncle Vernon.  Do you even recognize your dear indentured servant?"

            "P-Potter…" he stammered as he caught the glint of the blade.  

            "At least you remember your executioner.  You see these men here?  They are **freaks.  Just… like… me," he said, jabbing with each word.  "You see… What if I told you, Vernon, that there were more of us than you realize.  That Muggles were all a result of Squibs… that's people born with no magical ability to magical parents.  You are the worthless ones.  The freaks.  And it is our job to protect people like me from abusive, arrogant bastards like you.  You beat me.  You hated me.  And you loved that idiotic fat, bullying boy of yours.  You tried to beat the magic out of me?  It ****failed.  And now I am even more powerful than before."  Wandlessly, he shoved Vernon against the wall, causing a smug grin to come up on Voldemort's face.**

            Harry walked closer, bracing his left arm across the wider man's chest and whispered.  "You see, Vernon, you were never merciful.  You made my life miserable.  But I am willing to be merciful."  He could hear his heart pounding in his ears as he paused.  "You see, I am going to rescue you from a lifetime of Petunia's terrible cooking and whiny complaining.  From heart attacks and high cholesterol, and a boring dead-end job at some stupid drill factory.  I am going to put you out of your misery."  With that, he drew the blade across Vernon's throat, allowing the scarlet blood to flow out over his hands.  Midway across, he put a little more pressure, destroying the windpipe and nicking both carotid arteries.  "Because you meet your end here.  Surrounded by magic, but killed the way you wanted it… the Muggle way.  No one here will mourn your loss… hell, Petunia will only ever know you vanished, except if someone sends your body home.  And we may not even do that.  Another missing person, another mystery.  I think your world will sleep safe even with your death.  But not for long.  We are coming for your kind.  And don't worry.  Dudley and Petunia will be in my hands before long," he hissed fiercely.  

            Blood spurted onto the floor, spattered the wall with every heartbeat of the massive Muggle bulk and coated Harry's hand and face.  

            "His heart, my serpent."

            Harry nodded and placed his left hand over the man's heart, stopping it.  "You're dying, but not dead yet."

            "Give it to me," Voldemort hissed in Parseltongue.

            Harry bowed his head and drew the knife back, slicing through the man's chest, wandlessly cracking his sternum.  He sliced through the blood vessels and muscle holding the heart in place and lifted it up, handing it to his adopted father as the Muggle died.

            Voldemort's eyes narrowed at the Muggle.  "So he did have a heart after all.  Hmm.  Thank you, my son.  Avery, MacNair, burn the body and place the ashes in the trash.  Lucius, come with me.  Goodnight, Silver."

            Harry nodded and walked back up to his room, ignoring the blood on his hands and face.  He calmly walked to his desk.

            Severus was just settling down for the night when a sharp tapping could be heard from his window.  A raven entered the room as he opened the sash and he took the envelope before it flew away, back into the night.

            He unrolled it, and read it quietly, before striding to his fireplace and calling Albus.

            The elder mage blinked sleepy eyes at the Potions Master.  "What is it?"

            Snape swallowed.  "It's a letter from Harry.  'You were so sure of my heart.  Tonight I slit Vernon's throat, then carved out his own, at Voldemort's request.  The Muggles will get what is coming to them.  Make no mistake, and do not doubt me or my resolve again.'"

_--00--_

_Sorry for the delay, all, but my computer got reformatted the first week in May.  That's right.  Everything got shot to hell, including some fanfics that didn't exist anywhere else.  I suppose it's a good thing that I didn't really like them to begin with, but it still hurts.  Yup, don't worry… it's none of the ones that I have posted.  But… yeah, it still sucks.  _

_I also have been turning my attention towards getting a job.  I hate being financially dependent upon my parents… and I'm only 20.  Isn't that sad?  And this city has one of the lowest unemployment rates in the nation!  Just my crappy ass luck._

_            Last weekend, I went to A-Kon, in __Dallas__ and helped sell T-shirts.  If you are in the Dallas-Fort Worth area around June of next year and are a fan of anime, I would highly recommend going.  It will be in the Adam's __Mark__Hotel__, in Downtown __Dallas_.  Tons of fun although people are a bit weird.  Although… I finally learned what a 'glomp' was.  Took me long enough.  I will probably end up going again, even though my best friend had to talk me into going home.  My parents were ecstatic.  __

_            Oh yeah, one more thing on this little rant before you all must review.  Roommates suck.  I have three of them, I want them all to die and leave me alone.  But murder is so damned inconvenient.  *Shrugs*  Thanks and have a great day!_

_Thanks to all of my reviewers._

_To the ones who think Dumbledore is a manipulative bastard ( wait, isn't that everybody who reads this fic?): Usagi Serenity Yui Cosmos, VB, litine, Maria, Little Bit, RaistlinofMetallica, HPIceAngel, Lexi-formerly Katy999, asellus, amy, Anne Phoenix, xikum, angelhitomi, npetrenko, reanne080, Dark-past, luke-6622427, MostEvilKitten, frizzy, BH49349, Fleur, Cho Chang, Myst4Drgn, tammy_

_Oh yeah, and to all who ask.  Given the fact that this is a Dark and Despairing!Harry, who can't even love his godfather any longer… there will be implied but not displayed pairings in this fic.  Hermione loves Harry, but he's incapable of reciprocation.  Severus loves Harry as a son, but all Harry can do is look out for him.  It's nice to have friends at the top.  For reasonably good HP/SS slash, read Written in the Stars.  I swear… it's good._

From the BETA: _Written in the Stars_ _is_ good, but depressing.. Do you write any where the people all LIVE? Joking, joking.


	8. In the Shadow of Death

Disclaimer:  This isn't mine.  If it was, Book 5 would have been out years ago, and there would be plenty of revenge for the meek and downtrodden.

When last we left, our hero (or is he an anti-hero now?) had just sent Snape a letter describing the death of his uncle at his own hands.  (No, Voldemort still has the heart, Snape doesn't.)  

Emphasis, **written word, _voices in Harry's head, _**_words in the past._

Chapter 8: In the Shadow of Death

            _They've committed a murder! And it's not like taking a trolley ride together where they can get off at different stops. They're stuck with each other and they've got to ride all the way to the end of the line and it's a one-way trip, and the last stop is the cemetery._

_                        **Wilder, **_**_Chandler_****_ and Keyes (Double Indemnity)_**

****

******************

            Harry drew a dagger from its sheath as he sat in his bedroom.  An empty page sat before him, and he couldn't think of what to write… but he knew he had to.  She had to be dead to him before the cards fell where they may.  Or it would hurt.

            '_Pain is a guide, Silver.  Pain can teach you many things.  It prevents you from running headlong into danger; it can even knock some sense into that semi-thick teenage skull of yours.' _

_            'Father, my skull is no thicker than yours is.'_

            He examined the gleaming blade and smiled.  It was like him.  

            **_Harry, you killed someone with this dagger.  _**

Severe, silver, cold, and heartless, the perfect weapon.  

            **_Murderer. _**

Forged by the hottest fires of hell… even though Azkaban was cold, it had been hell on this world.  

            **_Traitor.  _**

And like Sisyphus, his tasks seemed never-ending.  He pressed the dagger to his forearm, watching the now silver blood well in the cut, and he smiled.  It was neither deep nor exceptionally long, and was closer to the elbow than his wrist.  

            One of the snakes hissed to the others and uncurled from where it lay on the bed, to slither down and out the door.  Paladin, meanwhile, hissed at him from the floor, and he picked the serpent up.  "What is it, Paladin?"

            "Why are you doing this, Master?" the snake hissed, with a note of concern in his voice, as the snake made to taste the blood.

            "I'm not going to die from it.  It doesn't matter."

            The snake was confused.  "Why do you sit here, without reading?"

            Harry sighed.  "I'm just thinking, I guess.  I don't want to, but I can't help it.  There's this girl… and I thought I had forgotten her.  I _need to forget her, and I can never have her.  But she hasn't forgotten me," he said, quietly.  "I want to tell her than anything we had is over, but I don't know how."_

            Sighing, he pressed a towel to his wrist and picked up his quill.  A blotch of black ink fell to the page, and he gritted his teeth before starting.

            **"Granger.**

**            "I only hope by now that you have not blabbed my appearance at the school to the entirety of ****Gryffindor****Tower****.  Severus will only give this to you if he hasn't Obliviated you, which I hope he has.  **

**            "Memories are a tricky thing.  I've been taught they change your view on the world.  But mine doesn't need to be changed.  I've finally found something to believe in.**

**            "I never… believed in a higher power, Granger.  What kind of god would take away the only thing I had and send me to live with those muggles?  Abused, hated, used.  Believe in Dumbledore?  The man is a world class manipulator, and failed to protect me when I needed him the most.  He lied to me at every turn, telling me what he wanted me to hear to keep me under his control, even though I am more powerful than he is.  I never had faith in our world… not after seeing how easily they turn on the famous in the face of change.  Believe in myself?  Not a chance.  I failed to protect myself from the Dursleys, then the Ministry, then Azkaban.  And how could I ever believe in love, when I had never found it.  **

**            "The truth is, I'm glad I never told you how I felt when I actually thought I loved you.  It would make this so much the harder.  I can't love you.  Not any more.**

**            "Granger, in all likelihood, I will not survive this war.  Either I will be killed by the Aurors, or I will be killed by Voldemort's absence from my life.  He is my guardian and protector, and he has never willingly hurt me since Azkaban.  **

**            "The world needs change, and I will bring it from chaos into order.  **

**            "Forget about the boy you knew.  He's dead now.  The shell that remains is not yours.  And it never was."**

            He signed it with a flourish and sealed the envelope to hand to Snape the next time he saw the man, as Voldemort knocked on the door.  

            "Come in."  
            Voldemort looked pissed.  "Alexander just came to me with an interesting story.  Your version?" he asked, picking up the bloody knife.

            "Nothing, father.  It's just… pain brings clarity.  I needed to think.  I mean, it's not everyday you kill someone you despise.  I needed to remember what he gave to me," he whispered, fingering the cut.

            Voldemort was shocked.  "And what did he bring to you?"

            "Bruises.  Scars.  Scorn.  Humiliation.  Poverty, hunger, and pain."  _And he taught me to trust no one, no matter what their name was, unless you knew their heart._  Harry laughed.  "And still I stuck by him, doing the 'right thing'.  It only got worse when I went to Hogwarts.  He was the first to know I was a wizard who hated me.  I learned about the hatred and fear from Muggles through him.  And that blood doesn't make family any closer."

            The pain was not quite excruciating, but it sent delicious waves up, just under his Dark Mark.  

            "We must all remember our motivation, my child.  However, self-mutilation is not what I had in mind."

            Harry sighed.  "It will heal either on its own or with a simple healing charm.  It will be fine, father."

            "Silver, I needed to speak to you on something completely different, but I fear you are not ready to perform what I would request.  I had wanted to discuss the Rites of Succession.  In case one of us was to die, we would live on in the other.  But I can't ask you to do this if you have to remind yourself of your devotion to our cause," he said, brushing Harry's hair from his face.  He then sighed.  "Come.  We have work to do if we are to plan for the attack on Diagon Alley this coming month."

            Harry nodded, not knowing exactly what Voldemort had wanted, or what he had saved himself from.  What he did know is that he needed his knife back.

****************************

            "This meeting of the Order of the Phoenix will come to order," Remus commanded, quieting the membership.

            "Thank you, Remus," Albus said.  "I have called you here tonight to discuss the war and its conclusion."

            Snape shifted in his seat and smirked.  "War is an optimistic term.  This is a mopping up action, Headmaster," he muttered, drawing stares and glares from the rest of the membership.

            "Snape, be quiet unless you have something positive to say, or you will be wearing your ribcage as a hat."

            "Well, I found your beloved Potter, Molly," he replied, turning his gaze to her.

            "Thank Merlin," Arthur breathed.  "Where is he?"

            "I thought you said you wanted the positive news?  Ribcage for a hat and all that," he muttered, shifting in his chair again.  It was too soft for his tastes.

            "Snape!"

            "Right.  He lives in the Riddle House now.  He is Voldemort's lieutenant and heir," he said darkly.

            Jaws dropped around the table, and Albus rubbed his forehead.  "Severus, that was something that need not be shared with the General Assembly."

            "Really, I think it concerns all of us.  You see, he is preparing himself for death.  And while I don't think that suicide is what he will settle on, he believes that in either this attack or the next that he will be captured and killed by the Aurors.  He even gave me a note to give to Granger to break it off, and prevent her from mourning him."

            Sirius put his head in his hands.  "I don't know whether to kick his ass for breaking her heart or shake his hand for his pragmatism."

            "I would recommend doing neither.  He doesn't care what happens to her any more, nor any of you," Snape replied quietly.

            "And he cares about you?"  
            The Potions Master calmly glared at Remus.  "I'm the only one he trusts.  And even that bond is tenuous, because he knows that I still have to report to this august body.  He did however give me permission to Veritaserum him to get information so that he doesn't betray Voldemort directly.  And it is from him that our best information comes.  I asked him what his father told him recently and he said, 'He brought out a map of the British Isles and a series of chess pieces.  It's his favorite metaphor for life, and we play it at least 3 times a week.  Anyway, I managed to find out that he only intends to make two more strikes.  The first is on Diagon Alley and the Ministry Headquarters there, and the second is here, at Hogwarts.'"

            There were whispers among the Order members.  

            "How do we know he's not just lying to us?" Arthur Weasley asked.

            "Because Voldemort has had me instruct the boy with the use of the Unforgivable Curses, and I know that as Voldemort's lieutenant, he will lead the attack on the Ministry Headquarters.  And given that Potter's path of revenge started sometime last night, I would not be incredibly surprised to see him kill Cornelius Fudge next," Snape said.

            "Who did he kill?" Remus asked.

            "That bloody Muggle Potter was forced to live with.  He didn't even use magic at all."  

            There was brief silence as no one truly believed Snape's words.

            "So how are we supposed to defend the Ministry?"

            Snape crossed his arms as everyone looked at him.  "What?  You think that I know?" he snapped.

            "Severus," Dumbledore said softly.  "You have often provided the solution before."

            "Well, this time, I'm bloody well out of ideas.  Potter has told me nothing, and Voldemort won't tell me unless I am called to assist.  The only reason he hasn't killed me is because Potter has convinced Voldemort that I might be useful.  At any rate, in order to prevent the plans from leaking, Voldemort tells no one until they gather to Apparate to the battle.  He has learned from previous failures.  I would have mere seconds to get you the battle plans, and it would no doubt be too late.  You'll have to come up with a plan on your own."

            Albus steepled his fingers and sighed.  "He has not asked Harry to perform the Rites yet?"

            "No.  As I told you last time, Voldemort is most optimistic in his outlook on the war, and may believe that the Rites are unnecessary at this time," Snape replied, pedantically.

            "The Rites?" Mundungus Fletcher echoed.

            "A ritual that ensures should Voldemort die and Harry live, that Voldemort's power would be transferred to Harry," Albus replied.

            "Not just his power, Albus.  His consciousness would merge with Potter's too.  He would in essence rise as the next Dark Lord, within perhaps 5 minutes of his death.  He would become a fusion of Tom Riddle, Voldemort, Harry Potter and the Silver Serpent.  And he would hold the power of both Gryffindor and Slytherin," he explained.  "I don't believe after this prolonged war that you could stop the wizard who would rise.  A final solution.  If he can't win in his present incarnation, he wants you to lose to the combined powers of the Founders."

            There was silence in the Order's rooms.  Bill was the first to speak.  "If he does this, we're dead."

            Snape smirked.  "How very defeatist of you, Weasley.  Don't worry.  I'm not entirely certain that Harry would allow it.  He is still rather independent, and will greatly dislike any attempt to bind his power further."

            "And how exactly would you know this, Severus?"

            The Potions Master glared at McGonagall.  "Because not a one of you ever seemed to know him at all.  And neither did I while he was my student here.  That was to my detriment.  But as for the rest of you, you don't know who he is any more.  He has lost all his family and his focus, and he chose the darkness because it's more comfortable… easier.  But how many of you actually knew him as Harry, not Harry Potter?  Every single one of you knew his reputation, but how many of you knew why he had motivation to kill his uncle?"

            Snape scoffed at the blank stares.  "Potter's uncle abused him, mentally and physically.  Potter never had a normal life because we condemned him to their rather inadequate care.  Then, you, as a world, tossed your cares and responsibilities onto his shoulders from the second he came to this school at age 11.  Me?  I saw a boy who wasn't worthy of all of it, and he actually thanked me for my honesty and treating him like a normal student.  I never expected anything from him, and now I'm the only person he trusts.  So never ask me how I know Potter better than you do.  Because I just do."  With that, the Potions Master stormed out of the room and leaned back against the wall pinching the bridge of his previously broken nose.  He whispered into the night as his arm began to sear.  "But even I didn't know him at all."

**************************

            Well, that's it for this chapter.  I hope you guys enjoy it and review.  Yup, I decided to forge on ahead without paying any attention to Book 5.  Why?  Because she didn't kill off one of the most favorite characters, she killed off mine!  And he shows up in this story and the sequel… and possibly the sequel to the sequel.  (What am I talking about?  He is in the next two stories in this arc.  I've already written part of it.)

            Um… yeah, so nothing in fifth year has happened.  This picks up after GOF, because Harry is blamed for the death of two Aurors in Dumbledore's camp… killed off so that Fudge could keep it quiet. 

            Anyways, I wanted to get this out before I got sidetracked by other things… we'll see how long it will be before I can post again.  But we are nearing the end of the story… maybe one or two more chapters… and you're going to hate the last chapter before the epilogue.  I'm just telling you, you will.

            None of the current stories except for Finale will follow Book 5, because they were thought up and finished long before she got off her ass and published it.

            One of my favorite things about Book 5 is this, though.  Someone actually grew a backbone. (in a sing-song voice)  About DAMN TIME!!!!  What do you think about the person in question?

WARNING, AUTHOR'S RANT AHEAD

            So anyways, I hate roommates, and want to become a hermit.  This brings the total number of times that my roommates have lied to me bald-faced to 3, and I am sick of it.  They had told me that they had a friend coming in and they wanted me out for that.

Bullshit, I saw them advertising for a new roommate.  May they have their hearts cut out with a silver dagger and rot in Muggle hell.

And now, the Thankses (man I sound like Gollum)

MostEvilKitten- yes… I like it too.  Meow.

RaistlinofMetallica- Thanks, and read the above Author's Rant.  It got worse… and I'm going mad.  If I get stuck in this apartment with them for any longer, I'll need fucking meds.  But thanks for the support.

Leena- Thanks for reviewing, I know you don't do it often… makes me feel special.  You're right… I liked killing Vernon off, and the guy deserved it.  The question is if you want me to kill off Petunia… as she was Harry's only other living relative, and therefore abandoned him more than Vernon did.  Let me know, I'll be online.

HPIceAngel- Dankeschoen.  You think it's fun to read, try writing it!  It's very cathartic, and it means that I haven't punched anything solid in months.  I mean, you get to explore your dark side through someone else's, what could be more fun?

luke-6622427- Thanks.  I love your praise and it did motivate me to get this chappie out faster.

Cr1Ms0n^D3v1L-  It didn't disappear, it just… went to Bermuda for a holiday while I stressed out about exams and my mom in the Hospital.  It's back now… but it forgot to buy me a gift.  (Damn uppity world-traveling story… forgetting its author, who stabs at a new fic with her fountain pen.)

Anne Phoenix- hm… Your idea of seeing the light would be what then?  Just for my memory, who's side are you on?  Redeemed!Harry or UltimateDarkness!Harry?  Nice maniacal laugh though.  Mine always end up coming from the shadows as I stalk people and plan their demise, so it can't be very loud.  

Mrriddler- Thanks for the review!  (*fans herself to try and quash the ego-boost she is feeling*)  I love people who offer what they love about the story… and I totally agree that some people who write ffn do go for the cheesy endings, but I try not to end every chapter with someone falling asleep… although it has happened.  Not a master of the cliffies, but I try.  Anyways, I wrote this scene about 2 hours before I sent it to the beta… so it was random inspiration based on wanting to kill my roommates.  However, I do hope I have convinced you to return for this next part.

Kateri-  True.  I'm not exactly certain that Harry does want to be saved.  It's safer for him in the darkness, as he's known pain, fear and anger all his life.  Don't worry… Sev's not going anywhere soon.

Usagi Serenity Yui Cosmos- Hm… Barcelona.  *Coughs, that sounds vaguely like 'You Suck!!!'*  Dude, it's been two years since I've been to Europe, and I miss it already.  Don't know how I survived 19 years without it.  Never got to Spain, myself, but that's okay.  I have time.  Thanks for the review, and let me know more about the fic you mentioned… I love that pairing and would love to read it.

Slim- Thanks.  Here it is.

Selua- Thanks.  Here it is.

Myrddin Ambrosius- Thanks for your review.  I'm inclined to agree with you somewhat, but when you consider that in my eyes, Fudge has way too much power, I'm not sure what kind of difference that would make.  Except that someone more intelligent and driven would be in charge.  But as for revenge?  Oh yes, vengeance is Harry's saith the author.  I love Evil!Harry too.  

Black Dragon- Thanks.  He's gonna have fun, and angst and pain before this story arc is over, but you'll see.

Snape coolgirl-  Thanks for the review.  Well, you'll see where the fic is going when I end it, I guess.  

Oh, and by the way, feel free to im me or email me.  My yahoo group is the easiest way to find me… you can send messages directly to me from there.  And I'm often online.


	9. De Profundis

            "Out of the deep have I called unto thee, O Lord; Lord hear my voice.

            O let thine ears consider well the voice of my complaint.

            If thou, Lord, wilt be extreme to mark what is done amiss, O Lord, who may abide it?

            For there is mercy with thee, therefore shalt thou be feared.

            I look for the Lord; my soul doth wait for him; in his word is my trust.

            My soul fleeth unto the Lord before the morning watch; I say, before the morning watch.

            O Israel, trust in the Lord, for with the Lord, there is mercy, and with him is plenteous redemption.

            And he shall redeem Israel from all his sins."

                        -Psalm 130 (also not mine)

Chapter 9:  Out of the Deep

            The attack on Diagon Alley came the next week, but not because Voldemort wanted Harry to learn the Killing curse.  He wanted to prepare his troops, and he had faith in Harry's preparedness.  

            Harry, Voldemort and 30 Death Eaters Apparated in to Diagon Alley early on a Tuesday morning as everyone was headed to work.  The losses were catastrophic.

            Harry indeed 'killed' Fudge, but with something called Mortis Sensulis.  Voldemort didn't question him, because it came with a flash of green light, just like the Killing Curse.  10 Death Eaters were killed or captured.

            7 Deputy Ministers and 36 others were truly killed, and nearly 12 men were captured, mostly Aurors and members of the Order of the Phoenix.  

            Harry sat in a chair in his room at the Riddle mansion, with his elbows resting on the table in front of him, head in hands.  He had removed his jacket upon his return and he sat only in his shirt, trousers and boots.  He turned to Paladin and hissed, "Get me Severus.  Get him here quickly."

            The snake nodded and slithered swiftly away to find the Potions Master.  Harry sat there, trying to escape the pain of his injuries by imagining a chess game being played in his head.  They had succeeded at Diagon Alley so he was plotting the attack on Hogwarts.

            "Milord?  You sent for me?" Snape asked, then stopped as he saw the shiny patches of blood on Harry's solid black shirt.  "Are you injured?"

            Harry nodded, a gesture that shot fire through his back and forced his eyes to tear in pain.

            Snape moved closer and magically cut away the shirt to find huge gashes on the teen's back.  "Harry," he whispered.  "Can you lay down on your stomach?"

            "No," he said revealing a similar shiny patch on the front of his shirt, from right chest to left abdomen.  "Damn Aurors with their cutting curses.  They've come up with a new one that attacks the skin directly, working under clothing.  Otherwise, my jacket would have protected me."

            "Aurors," Snape echoed, feeling hatred for the incompetents that the Ministry relied on.  He summoned a healing salve, which he prepared to put on the boy's back.  "This will hurt a great deal, milord."

            Harry flinched, biting his lip and the tears fell as the pain was intense.  Snape worked quickly, but gently to finish the task.  "It will disinfect and aid in the healing process, but it will not heal it magically.  I must work on the other one too, then stitch them up separately."

            Harry nodded tightly, as Snape removed the rest of his shirt and placed the medicine on his chest.

            "Paladin, I apologize for sending you again, but go find Avery if he is unharmed.  Have him bring the red-headed long haired prisoner as well."

            The snake obediently left as Snape began stitching.  "What do you need with Avery?" Snape asked, pausing to give Harry a pain potion.  

            "He's going to get the cover for your return from the dungeon.  You'll take back Bill Weasley," Harry replied sipping gently.

            Less than 10 minutes later, Snape was nearly finished with Harry's wounds.  Avery tossed Bill Weasley unceremoniously into the room and he landed on his face at Harry's feet.  "Thank you Joseph.  I'll take it from here."

            Bill gaped at the injuries that Harry had sustained, and was about to speak, but Harry silenced him, then said, "Dormiens Paladin." 

            The snake fell into a deep sleep.  

            Harry smiled at Bill.  "I don't want my keeper ratting on me to Lord Voldemort right now, now do I?  Severus, are you almost done?"

            "Yes, milord.  Let me get you a robe.  It's drafty."  He moved off towards Harry's wardrobe and was only stopped by Harry's voice.

            "It's fine,"  he snapped.  "We don't have enough time for that.  Cast a glamourie on Bill, and make him look more injured, like he was just pulled from Diagon Alley."

            Snape nodded, and put a spell on him.

            "Bill, I want you to listen to me carefully.  Snape rescued you from Diagon Alley; you were injured in the initial blast.  You never saw me up close, we never talked and I was not injured.  But if you are asked by Albus, tell him that I used the Sensation of Death curse on Fudge - it wasn't Avada Kedavra, but Voldemort would have killed me had Fudge lived.  As it stands, he died knowing the pain that others felt at his hands."  Harry looked away, forcing himself to snap back to the present, away from the memory of those dead eyes.  Also, the assault of Hogwarts comes on Tuesday at dawn, and to watch the older Slytherins, or there might be trouble.  My debts to your side are discharged, Bill.  Tell them that," Harry said holding his body as still as he could.  "Severus, when you are done, go."

            "Harry…"

            "Go, the both of you, or he wins.  My Lord will come to my side soon anyways.  Avery will inform him that I am injured.  Go," he said, coughing softly.

            "Harry, thank you."

            "Tell them I'm sorry.  Hermione most of all."

            Snape had grabbed a shirt and put Harry gently into it.  "I will see your message safely delivered, milord."

            Harry nodded as the other Death Eater lifted Bill to his feet.  They DisApparated, leaving Harry alone with his single white serpent.  With his right hand, he stroked the snake back to consciousness.  "You are tired from this long day already, Paladin?"

            "Yes, Master."

            "As am I.  If only I had the strength to move."

            A soft knock came at the door.  

            "Come in."

            Voldemort entered the room, walking directly to his protégé.  "Avery told me that you were injured."  He knelt down beside the boy, then moved Harry's bangs and crimson eyes again met silver.  "What happened?"

            "The Aurors have developed a new slashing hex that can cut through dragonshide without damaging the material.  They cast it twice on my back and once on my chest.  I was unable to defend adequately," he admitted as Voldemort opened Harry's shirt to see the wounds.  

Voldemort cursed, and said, "It's still bleeding through your shirt."

            Voldemort's hands were cold, and Harry shivered.  "I'm sorry about that," Harry's surrogate father said, trying to warm his hands.  "Severus was here already?"

            "Y…yes, father.  How… how did you know?" he said, stumbling over the words.

            "I knew because I recognize his stitch-work.  You are not the first Death Eater that he has had to sew up after an attack," Voldemort replied, buttoning the shirt again.  "Once they have stopped bleeding, I will show you a spell for the healing of such curse wounds.  It may scar, but it will stop hurting."

            "I sent Severus back as you requested, with one of the pureblood non-Auror prisoners.  I figured you would want to keep as many Mudbloods as possible," Harry said, as Voldemort got to his feet.

            "Very good.  The plan went well, my son.  You played your part beautifully today."  He smiled.  "I'm proud of you."  Voldemort looked cautiously at Harry, placing his cool hand against Harry's feverish forehead.  "Do you need to lie down?  You seem barely awake."

            Harry smiled weakly.  "I'm not sure that I can.  The pain is too intense.  The cuts were deep, milord."  He knew he was right and Voldemort nodded.

            Voldemort cast a charm on Harry's bed to cushion him, then helped him to his feet.  Harry winced, and gasped as he was laid on the bed.  "I never thought that I would be putting a 16 year old to bed, my child."

            He watched, sitting down beside his surrogate son, and felt his forehead, fingers lingering on the curse scar that connected them.  "You did well today in the attack.  I was very proud of you."

            Harry relaxed under Voldemort's touch.  "The pawn in charge of the Ministry has been captured and eliminated from the board," he breathed, half-delirious.

            "Sleep, my fallen angel, and rest."  Voldemort walked to the desk where Paladin lay and hissed, "Let none disturb him but me.  Find me the moment he awakes."

            The snake nodded.  "Yes, Master."

            Snape nearly dragged a combative Bill from the Apparition barrier to the castle.  "What are you doing, Weasley?"

            "You just left Harry in the middle of a Death Eater stronghold.  He's hurt badly.  He could die if you just leave him there," Bill yelled.

            "He just saved your life and mine.  That place is his home now, and Voldemort will see to his injuries," Snape said, not loosing his grip even as they entered the castle.  "Harry knows what he is doing.  We had planned this attack down to the last detail.  His injuries change that, but not by much.  I was still to return to preserve my cover here, and I was actually to have Obliviated you.  He didn't tell me to, however, so you are not to lose your memory."

            "If you have planned everything, then why did he ask me to apologize to everyone?" Bill snapped.

            "Because in all likelihood, Weasley, neither of the two of us will get out of this alive," Snape sighed.  "He just has more people to say goodbye to than I do."

            Bill stopped fighting.  "Who will you be standing with?"

            Snape sighed again and released his grip.  "Albus hasn't asked.  I feel pulled in both directions.  My students are what make me want to stand here.  But Harry is one of my students, and he needs me the most."  Snape walked Bill to the Hospital Wing, and began taking off the faked injuries.

            "Bill, you're okay!" Molly said from beside the bed where her injured husband slept.  She got up and raced to his bed, showering him in embraces.  

            "Mum, lay off, I'm not hurt.  I just got a little dirty in the dungeons," he said, pushing her away, then feeling his shoulder pop.  "What happened to Dad?"

            "He pushed Percy out of the way of a Cruciatus.  He's been asleep ever since Madame Pomfrey gave him some Dreamless Sleep Potion.  It's been a couple of hours," she sighed.  "Percy's back at the Burrow with the twins."  She turned to Snape.  "Severus, thank you for bringing him home."

            Snape nodded, and left to find the Headmaster. 

            "Snape, I have something to tell Albus about the attack," Bill cut in, getting to his feet.

            Snape scoffed.  "Which one?"

            "Both.  He told me about the next one, as well as this one."

            "All right.  You stay here and I will go find Albus."

            Bill nodded as he watched the Potions Master go.  He was right.  He was pulled in two directions, with loyalties to both Dumbledore and Potter.   But weren't they all?  Both had defied Voldemort, but hopefully it was not only Harry who had the strength to defeat him more than once.

            Harry stirred in his bed, at the sensation of a cool cloth wiping his forehead.  He opened his silver eyes to find Voldemort leaning over him.  "Welcome back to the world of consciousness," he whispered, moving the cloth back to a bowl of water.  "You've been out for nearly a day."

            Voldemort had removed Harry's shirt, and laid him on a series of towels to clean the blood off his chest.  Harry looked down to see shiny new skin where the cuts used to be.  His left hand reached tentatively to the new scar, and Voldemort pushed it away.  

"They still have to heal a bit more.  You lost a great deal of blood, and you're still very pale, so I want you to stay here today.  I will have Severus bring you a few restoratives.  I want you to take every potion that he gives you.  Do you understand?"

            Harry nodded, no longer feeling the pain from the cuts, but still more or less unable to move.  

            "Send Paladin or Severus if you need me," Voldemort said, as he picked up the bowl.  "I have some last things from the Alley to take care of.  I will return as soon as I can."

            Harry lay there, hearing his surrogate father's footsteps recede.  He closed his eyes and breathed slowly.  There would be screams from the dungeons tonight.  Cruciatus would be doled out freely for the men who hurt Harry, the beloved heir of Voldemort.

            "Milord?" Severus' familiar timbre called from the doorway.

            Harry's eyes fluttered open again.  "Hello, Severus."

            "Harry, are you okay?"

            "Not quite.  Did you bring any blood restorative?" he asked, his eyes tearing up again, but not from pain.

            The Potions Master walked closer, to comfort the boy.  "I did.  Here," he said, placing a hand behind the boy's back and guiding him to a sitting position.  He uncorked the bottle and handed it to Harry.

            Harry swallowed, coughing as the last bit went down wrong.  His chest felt like it was on fire, and he despised the reflex as it sent paroxysms of pain throughout Harry's body.

            Snape was torn between patting his back and not, because of the wounds.  "I shouldn't have left you here.  You should have come to Hogwarts with us, Harry," he breathed, as the boy's coughing fit subsided.  Snape removed the wet towels, and laid a soft, dry blanket under him.

            "As though my guardian would have allowed it," he whispered, as Snape laid him back on the bed.  "Besides, I think I wouldn't have made the journey conscious or alive."  His breathing was ragged, but his voice was calm.  "I ordered you to go.  I would have hexed you had you tried to stay.  Even for me, Professor."

            "You don't have to call me Professor any more," he said, recapping the bottle and setting it on a nearby table while looking for the breathing aid potion in his pocket.  "In fact, I think I am rather used to you calling me Severus.  No one but Albus does."

            "Why not?" he asked, as the blue potion was found.

            "I don't let them.  Lupin tried when he worked at Hogwarts, but I forbid it," Snape said, gesturing for the boy to sit up.  "You get too close to too many people and you put yourself at risk."

            Harry nodded, as he took the second potion from Severus' hand.  "I understand."  After he swallowed it, he looked away to find the tears flowing freely now.

            "What's wrong, Harry?"

            He wiped the tears from his eyes.  "I don't know," he said, almost breaking into sobs.  "I… I killed Fudge.  I watched him die at my hand, and I knew that all the pain he had caused me, he now felt.  The nights in Azkaban, the ridicule, the beatings of the guards.  He even felt the betrayal the day the Aurors took me away.  I have avenged myself on him and on my Uncle, who beat me, and… tried to use me.  I thought it would make me feel… I don't know.  Righteous.  Free when they were dead.  But I'm neither.  I'm a murderer, and now I'm right back where I started.  I don't feel anything.  I'm so numb, Severus.  I don't know anything any more.  In killing them, I killed myself."

            Snape did the only thing that he could think of at that moment.  He took Harry into his arms and held him tightly.  "Harry, I'm here for you, you realize that, don't you?  You are far from alone in this.  Albus is here for you, I couldn't be anywhere else, and you have the love of Voldemort if you want it."

            Harry forced himself to laugh through the tears.  "I like it when you call me Harry.  I was afraid for a second you were going to call me Potter again.  Like when I was in school.  The first day of classes, I was only trying to prove that I was listening to you.  I was… taking notes on your speech.  But you knew I was muggle-raised although essentially pureblood.  You knew I wouldn't know anything about Potions.  I hated that."

            "Well, you were hopeless in my class, and a Gryffindor at that.  I had to treat you in that way," Snape said, stroking the boy's hair.

            "Can you keep a secret?"

            "Of course," Snape breathed.

            "The Hat wanted me in Slytherin," he admitted quietly.  "It said that I had a thirst to prove myself.  I was too afraid of going Dark at the time to listen to it.  I begged for Gryffindor.  After all this time, the hat was right.  I have chosen the Darkness, and I find myself not quite believing why."  Glassy silver eyes looked at Severus, not pleading, not asking, just needing someone to be there.

            "You would make a good Slytherin, Harry.  Willing to do what is necessary to survive," Snape said, avoiding the words 'would have'.   Harry needed to believe that he still had a great future ahead of him.

            "Breathing is not living, Severus," he whispered, dabbing his hand at his eyes.  "You think if we survive this, that we'll still be friends?"

            "It is my greatest hope that we do, Harry," he said.  Snape waited for nearly a quarter of an hour, as the sobbing subsided to hiccups.  He pulled out the syringe with a tranquilizer in it, and uncapped it, slipping it into the back of Harry's right arm and injecting it gently.  He gently rubbed the teen's arm, and then waited as the drug entered his system.  

            "Severus, what are… you… do…ing?"

            Harry's vision blurred, and he went limp in Snape's arms.  Severus could think of nothing better.  The boy was in desperate need of sleep, and his emotional upset would do nothing to help him recover the loss of blood.  He placed Harry back under the sheets and pulled the blankets up to his shoulders.  He picked up the empty bottles and replaced them with Dreamless Sleep Potion, blood restoratives, and pain potions.  Snape paused at the door, placing his right fist in front of his mouth and clenching his hand until the knuckles went white.  He was no father, and the child needed more than he could give him.  He needed Black or Dumbledore.  But neither could come.  So the next best man must come.

            He watched as Harry slept, to make sure his breathing and pulse were strong and regular.  Confident that the teen was okay with the dosage he had administered, Snape called Avery into the room.

            "Joseph, I must go speak with Lord Voldemort.  Stay with the Silver Serpent until my return," he whispered at the doorway.

            Avery looked at the sleeping form.  "He's just sleeping isn't he?  Why would he need to be watched?"

            "I gave him a tranquilizer.  He was far too agitated and just generally worsening his condition.  Just watch his breathing until I finish speaking with Lord Voldemort," Snape explained.

            Avery nodded and took his place at Harry's side.  Snape left the room, walking down the stairs and reaching the familiar ballroom.  Only a few Death Eaters stood guard, as the rest had gone home after the attack.  He approached one of the others and asked, "Have you seen our Master recently?"

            The young man turned to recognize Snape.  "Professor?"

            "Malcolm."

            "Yes, Lord Voldemort headed to the dungeons."

            Snape eyed Baddock.  "He said something?"

            "Something about making those Aurors pay for hurting his son.  He has a son?"

            Snape raised an eyebrow.  Being in the inner circles had its perks.  "Yes.  The Silver Serpent is his adopted child.  Thank you for the information, Mr. Baddock." 

            Snape walked onward, passing both paintings and doors, until he reached a nearly hidden spiral staircase.  After going down one flight of stairs, he came to a door guarded outside by Malfoy and McNair.  There was no screaming from inside, which meant that either they were all dead, or the torment had yet to begin.

--00--

I'd been sitting on this chapter for a while.  Let me know what you think.  I'm not really happy with parts, but hey, so sue me.

I would have cut it off earlier, but then it would have been 1650 words, and I know that you guys would have killed me for the short chapter.  Now I just have to get off my arse and write the next in the series.  We're nearing the end… perhaps one or two more chapters, as this fic is only 22,000 words unless I pad a couple of scenes, or add an epilogue.  I just might do an epilogue though… it might be good.  *muses silently for a moment before sighing*  Now I just have to chase after the plot bunnies for the sequel.  Where the hell did they go?

And now for reviewer thanks.

**Leena****, Coward in the Shadows, Enivrement (Thanks, and sorry for the wait.), selua (probably one more chappy after this, and maybe an epilogue, depending on reviews), ****Daniel (true, it says why, but not how.  Maybe that's a good plot bunny for the epilogue.  Thanks), ****Snape coolgirl (I think Snape is rather eloquent, especially given his rather refined insults.  I would be with that accent, yum.),**** Kira (I made you wait, I suck), **Cr1Ms0n^D3v1L, luke-6622427, Goku-chan2002, Usagi Serenity Yui Cosmos, RaistlinofMetallica, Kalina Quantum** (Well then, welcome to the realm of Dark!Harry, and I hope you enjoy your stay.  I think that anyone could go Dark with the right pressures, and I think that there has been enough pain and stress in Harry's life to expect this.  Thanks for the review!), **ntamara** (by the way, thanks for the LJ post… makes me actually remember that people are out there.  And I wish I could have drank at 16… what country are you in?  BTW, good point about only a month left!!), **Trinalla******, Mike Potter 2002 (As I stated before, I think that Harry will be celibate in this… needs to remember what familial love is like, before he is ready for any kind of a relationship.  Don't worry.), ****Dark-past (okay, I just wanted to be on the safe side.  Besides, the battle for Hogwarts comes soon, so there may be more.), **Dark-past** (honestly, the Weasleys at least should have known, don't you think?), **LadyHuntress******, Fallen Dragon, Artemis MoonClaw (nearly done, but here's the next chapter.)**

Now, if you want to be updated with my next chapter, join my yahoo group.  It's on my profile page, but don't worry, it's not anything worse than my stories are, except my LJ uses more than the occasional swearword.  I unfortunately filed it in the directory under 'adult' and can't get it out!  If you want a more personal email reply, let me know, I'd be more than happy to do so.  I get bored and lonely some times.

Next chapter will find Hogwarts under attack, and I hate to say it… the end of this part of the story arc, sans epilogue.  And if you hate cliffies, get out now, because you won't like what I've done.

The more reviews I get, the faster I will post.  It's already written, I just have to format the chapter, and write commentary for the reviews.  That's all. Let's see if we can't get 20 reviews in 24 hours.  Tell your friends.

As for Bellatrix, I don't think I have a good enough handle on her personality to write her well.  She may show up, but we'll see.

RHF

6-30-03


	10. Obsidio The Siege

Chapter 10: The Siege

            _Whoso regardeth dreams is like him that catcheth at a shadow, and followeth after the wind.  --Ecclesiasticus 34:2....___

            Severus girded up his courage and knocked on the door.

            It swung open harshly and slammed against the stone wall.  "What?" the Dark Lord demanded, bathed in cold fury.

            Severus stepped in to the room, a cold dungeon, empty, except for 5 Aurors and the shackles that bound them.  The Aurors were covered in soot, dirt, and blood.  And Snape could have cared less.

            "Milord, I hate to interrupt," Snape said softly.  "However, I thought you should know that I have seen to your son, but I shall remain with him until morning.  He required sleep, but refused to do so, so he has been sedated for the time being.  He is in no small amount of pain from his injuries, and he needs time to allow the potions to work."  The Potions Master hesitated to mention anything about Harry's doubts to his surrogate father.  Emotional weakness would have been punished severely.

            The Aurors quaked and one, a Hufflepuff from the looks of him, squeaked, "Son?"

            "Yes.  The Silver Serpent is my heir," Voldemort snapped.  "Stay with him, Severus.  If his condition changes, contact me immediately.  I will be here after I deal with them."  He glanced at Snape, who froze with the movement.

            "I will do as you command, my Lord," he responded, cryptically.  

            "Wait," Voldemort said, as Snape moved discreetly back to the door.  "You care for my son, don't you?" he hissed in Snape's ear.

            "Of course, my Lord.  Lord Argentus holds my loyalty, but my loyalty is yours first," he replied, stiffening.

            "Then perhaps you would like to cast the first curse?" Voldemort asked.            

            Snape glared at each of them.  "No, my Lord, for you wish to teach them a lesson first.  I would kill them outright."  He turned back to the Dark Lord.  "May I have your leave to return to your son's side?"

            Voldemort looked him over, head to toe.  "Of course, Severus.  You may go."

            As the door closed behind him, he could hear the first of the screams begin.       

            Severus wrote the letter to Dumbledore quickly after returning to Harry's bedside.  The boy breathed regularly, and did not toss or turn as Snape kept a silent vigil.

            _'Albus.__  I have returned to Riddle Manor, to find Harry's injuries dealt with, but he has lost a great deal of blood, and Voldemort has asked me to look after him, until he is satisfied that the Aurors we captured have suffered for their hexes.  _

_            'I don't know quite how to put this delicately.  The boy collapsed into my arms after I gave him the required potions, and cried until I thought he was out of tears.  And he could give me no logical explanation for his outburst.  I gave him a sedative, and he is sleeping, but I feel unable to leave him here alone.  And yet I can think of nothing that I can do to help him but be here.  I am neither his father, nor a psychologist, nor am I you.  Voldemort will come once he can, to see if there is anything he can do to help Harry recover mentally._

_            'He's beyond consolation.  I take it as a good sign that he feels remorse for killing Fudge and his uncle.  But it has fundamentally changed who he is. _

_            'I hope that you understand, Albus.  I will attempt to return once there is some improvement in his color or other condition, and once Voldemort can stay with him._

_            'We are rapidly running out of time before the next assault, and every moment that Harry stays in bed is a minute more that he cannot help us.  Voldemort is too distracted to plan, and I don't know how we can adequately plan the defenses if we don't know his strategy._

_            'I will see you upon my return, Albus.  _

_            'Severus.'_

            Albus read the parchment and dismissed the owl.  He turned to Remus, who was in the office with him.  "Word from Riddle Manor."

            "What is it?" Remus asked, panicking.  "Harry's still alive, isn't he?"

            Albus handed him the missive.  He watched as the lycanthrope paled.   "What does he mean 'injuries'?"

            "Harry was hit by a slashing hex three times, and was unable to get to a medi-wizard.  Severus and Voldemort are supervising his care," Albus explained.  "At least Severus was able to inform me of his location.  I always worry the nights that he is gone."

            Remus looked back down at the letter.  "Why do you worry about him?  He can take care of himself."

            Albus smiled.  "He is my grandson. My daughter died when he was a boy and he was raised by his father and stepmother.  He is one of my last relatives, besides Harry."

            Remus gaped.  "What do you mean, besides Harry?"

            "Harold James Potter is the sole grandchild of my other child.  Maiden names often hide familial relationships.  And I fear that I never told Harry of his relation to me, or to Severus," he explained, conjuring a cup of peppermint tea.

            "Is there anything that we can do?"

            "We can only wait, Remus."

            Harry woke up in a haze the next morning.  Snape was still by his beside, sleeping with his hand under his chin.

            Harry's mouth was dry, his eyes were red from the tears, and he looked at the ceiling.  He threw back the covers quietly and went to the bathroom to fetch some water.  He padded in bare feet to the sink, filled a glass quietly and returned to the bed.

            Snape was awake, waiting for the boy to return.  "You shouldn't be out of bed.  Your body is still recovering."

            Harry sighed, taking a sip of the water.  "Time is of the essence, Severus.  I am hungry, and we have much work to do."

            "He's right, Severus," said a smooth voice from the doorway.  "You are better, my heir?"

            Harry turned, shocked by the appearance of his father.  "Yes, milord," he said, echoing the formal language of his father's address.

            "You look a great deal better than you did last night.  Get dressed.  We have much to discuss over lunch," he said, laying his hand on Harry's shoulder, before walking out of the room.

            Harry nodded and set down the half-empty water glass, before walking to his wardrobe.  Snape got up and helped him pick out a shirt that wouldn't irritate his scars.  "Be careful, Harry."

            He smiled.  "At this point, I don't have any choice," he whispered, as Snape placed the shirt in his hands.  Harry pulled the long-sleeved cotton t-shirt over his head and straightened his hair, before tucking his shirt into the jeans that he had found earlier.  He fumbled with the belt, then picked up his favorite set of black robes.  "Do I look like an imposing figure of death and destruction, Severus?"

            "Almost, milord," he replied, handing Harry a pair of shoes.  "Imposing figures of death usually don't go around barefoot," he added, smiling.

            Harry sat in front of a blazing fireplace, a thick tome of Slytherin's works in his lap again.  A blanket was pulled tight around his shoulders, and a glass of wine sat abandoned next to him.  His dark and silver hair fell into his eyes and he shivered into the blanket.  This time tomorrow, it would all be over, one way or the other.  

            Either Light or Dark would win, for the Dark Lord had planned no quarter.  He had gone to bed that night, smiling and giving Harry's shoulder a gentle squeeze.  The Dark Lord would dream dreams of the future of his world.

            But Harry could not dream of happy things any longer.

            There was a muggle song that he had heard once, and the words rang in his head as he waited for morning to come.  _"I dreamed a dream in time gone by… when hope was high, and life worth living.  I dreamed that love would never die, I dreamed that God would be forgiving…"_

He couldn't remember where it came from, merely that it was a favorite of Aunt Petunia's, like Harry himself was responsible for killing whatever dream of normalcy she had held.  

            _"I dreamed a dream my life would be, so different from this hell I'm living…So different now, from what it seems…"_

            Sure, it was great to be loved, even by one man, one Dark Wizard.  But why did he want the approval of Severus over his own father's?  Simple.  Severus may have hexed James Potter, but he never killed him.

            And now here he was, in the Dark Lord's fortress.  Hoping for some semblance of strength from the wisdom of a man who died around a thousand years ago.  

            But the only thing he could find of any value was 'Hope is definitely not the same thing as optimism. It is not the conviction that something will turn out well, but the certainty that something makes sense, regardless of how it turns out.'    

            It was not what Harry wanted to hear.

            The trouble was, he didn't know anymore.  On his hands, HIS HANDS, was the blood of countless innocents whom he sentenced to die without a second's thought, to bring a new world order.  A meritocracy, a system where change could be done.  No such world seemed to exist.

            Napoleon had tried it, and failed.  And Harry had come to the conclusion that the only thing harder than building a new world order was keeping it that way.  He didn't like that at all.

            Harry had seen his enemies fall.  And now that the bloodlust was gone, what was there?  Absolutely nothing.  The only thing that Harry had ever wanted, he could never have.  His family.  He gulped down the wine and let the book fall to the floor.  He wanted to feel his mother's embrace, or to play Quidditch with his father, James.  He wanted to just sit and talk.  To plan pranks.  To just be a normal boy again.  

            That hope was shattered.

            He would prepare, just in case.  There was no way that he was going back to Azkaban.  No way in hell.

            As he walked to the potions room, he passed a mirror.  His hair was mussed, his eyes haunted, the bags under them dark.  He was too pale, and barely recognized the boy staring back at him.

            _"Now life has killed the dream I dreamed."_

            The morning of the assault came as planned.  Albus had moved the students from their respective dorms to safe locations throughout the castle, and the rest of the staff was either guarding them or fighting alongside the Aurors.

            Harry waited in the shade of the trees as the Apparition barrier was brought down, looking at the castle that was once his home.  "I miss this place, Severus."

            "I know, milord," Snape replied.  "You were forced to leave it far too soon.  Are you prepared?"

            "You do realize that the both of us are perhaps certifiably insane, right, Severus?"

            "Of course," he said, drawing his wand.

            "Just as long as you realize it," Harry muttered, crouching down in the bushes, as the first wave launched their attack.

            Severus and Harry found themselves on the defensive most of the time, trying to avoid too much damage, without giving themselves up.  They were pushed to the top of the Astronomy Tower by the Auror Guild, and Harry looked at the older Death Eater.  

            Snape was sweating, and held himself behind a large stone.  

            "You know, Sev, you'd probably be better off if you started working out," Harry said sarcastically.

            "Do shut up, milord," he replied, throwing a stunning spell at the closest Auror.

            A brief flash of green light caught the eye of the younger man.  "Sev, look," he said, heart broken at the conclusion of a battle that he didn't want to see.

            At the top of the North Tower, there was a single figure standing over the crumpled body of another.  The victor's hair was white, and Harry looked at the figure of his father lying on the ground.

            Snape looked back at Harry.  The teen's eyes had returned to their original green shade, but his hair still retained its silver color.  He set his jaw, a single clear tear running down his face.  "Harry!" he called, as the teen ran off, blowing past the Aurors and dodging hexes as he ran.

            It was nearly 10 minutes before anyone found him.  Harry had set out the things from his pockets on a piece of black cloth in front of him.  Lying less than ten feet away was Voldemort's body, and Harry walked over to him, closed the now graying eyes and pulled a green crystal pendant from the man's neck.  He returned to his things and collapsed in front of them.

            "Harry?" Sirius asked.

            "'Lo, Sirius," he replied.  "I don't mean to be rude, but go away."

            Sirius' eyes fell on the bottle of cyanide, the wand, and the obsidian knife from Azkaban sitting in front of the kneeling teen.  "Harry, you know that I can't."

            "Well, I tell you what.  I'll walk you through it.  You turn around, put one foot in front of the other and come back in an hour when I'm dead," he said dryly.

            A new pair of footsteps came up at the door.  "Harry," Snape said, walking in.

            "Hey, Severus.  We're about to have a party in here, aren't we?"

            "No, Harry.  We can't let you do this," Albus' weary voice came from the doorway.

            Harry's fingers traced the outline of the knife.  "I loved him, you know.  Like the father I had never known.  And I know that you don't feel like I should miss him, but I do," he said, another tear falling down the boy's cheek to land on the wand.  He held up the pendant and watched it gleam in the sunlight.  "This was a gift from me to him.  Christmas."  He pulled up his left sleeve to reveal a bracelet with malachite hammered into it.  "This is what he gave me.  The only things that last are made of metal, I guess."

            Severus knelt down at Harry's right side.  "Harry, what has happened was what had to happen.  You know that."

            He nodded.  "He didn't perform the Rites.   He thought that he had plenty of time, just like I did."  He picked up the bottle.  "You know, that this is Severus' way.  What he would choose.  No magical cure.  It's probably what the Dursleys would have assumed I chose."  Harry stroked the flat edge of the blade and said, "A reminder of my time in Azkaban, and the one that I thought I would use when I was in prison."

            "And the wand, Harry?"

            "The way I always thought I would die from the age of 11.  At wand-point," he muttered.  "Oh, I am fortune's fool."  He buried his head in his hands.

            Snape took Harry by the shoulders and said, "'As thou'rt a man, Give me the cup; let go… If thou didst ever hold me in thy heart, absent thee from felicity awhile and in this harsh world, draw thy breath in pain…'"

            "'To tell my story.'  Sev, I didn't know you had read it," he said, looking into his dark eyes.

            "You have saved me, Harry.  From the darkness that we served, and the darkness in my own heart.  Let me save you.  I have friends in other countries, where you could live in peace."

            "In exile."

            Sirius knelt by his side.  "Harry, exile is preferable to death.  Remus and I can come with you… we have nothing here except you."

            He looked at the other three.  "You wish for me to run in disgrace, rather than die with dignity?"

            "Yes.  With all my heart."

            "Yes, Harry."

            "Harold, it is your choice, but you still have a great deal of life left ahead of you," Albus said gently.

            Harry bit his lip, and threw the cyanide against the wall where it shattered, and then picked up his wand and handed it to Sirius.  He kept the black dagger and held it above his heart, where he could easily slit his neck open.  "I have made my choice…"

--00--

            In the words of Brak, "na na na, na na!"  *Cue eerie organ music*

Lyrics were from Les Mis… "I dreamed a dream".  If you haven't listened to it, I recommend it.  It's a great song, sung by the dying prostitute, Fantine.

And Slytherin's quote is from Václav Havel, a Czech playwright and president, in his work Disturbing the Peace, ch. 5.

Well, a thanks to all my reviewers.  Who I am sure will kill me, while awaiting the conclusion.

ntamara - **as an attendee of one too many frat parties, there is no such thing as ordinary alcohol :P**

 amy - **thanks, I've been told that Voldie is OOC, as is Harry, but thanks for letting me know that it's okay**.

RaistlinofMetallica, **It's**** good to be the Dark Lord's heir!**

GY -  **thanks**** for the assertion of the word length.  Harry as a withering flower… I love it.**

Fleur - **Thank you, and here it is**

Cho Chang - (**honestly, is this the weirdest two to get in order or what?)  **Thanks for telling me that you 'can feel the Darkness'.  That shouldn't give me warm fuzzies, but it does.****

sabriel-chan - **Honestly, sometimes it sucks to be one of the shades of grey, no?**

RavensHaelo - **I have rotten luck.  I've had 5 good, and 4 bad in my time at school, and now I'm getting three more.  Ya'll will love them, though… so I need to find my angst elsewhere.  They gave me such memorable lines at an ice cream place as "I don't like it when people touch my cone," and something about licking a pita.**

Jaded Angel - **Um.** Yeah.  Will post more info with the epilogue, depending on how the writing (and reviewing) goes.****

luke-6622427 - **Um… yeah.  I have four lighters in my bedroom… and I don't even smoke.  Hogwarts hasn't burned yet.  *Lights a lilac scented candle*  Is that okay?**

Anne Phoenix - **Brains are funny that way , aren't they?  What fanfic is all about.  Thanks for reading!**

ColdKiss - **Thanks.  I know it's been done before, but sometimes, looking into the darkness of the abyss shows you who you are, that you've never been before.  Besides, until OoTP, Harry never had a backbone, or anything but meekness followed by occasional courage (or stupidity, if you ask Snape).  I wanted more.**

Hell's Reaper - **Bellatrix**… Bellatrix Lestrange.  Book 5… responsible for someone's Death.  Someone major's death… (No more questions! Don't ask me any more questions!)  I don't know… how do you characterize someone you hate?  I hate her.  I can write Voldie because he's fun.  Bella needs to take a long walk of a short pier, and then get Kissed.****

LadyHuntress - **I made this line to be a bit about the Wizarding Oath, and Life Debts.  Harry believes that once, a long time ago, Dumbledore saved his life by taking him to the Dursley's, then bringing him back.  He didn't have to.  So by saying that his debts were discharged, he is cutting ties with Dumbledore, saying, I don't owe you anything.  Thanks for reading!**

Goku-chan2002 - **Is that Goku from Saiyuki or Goku from DBZ?  Anyways, thanks for reviewing, hope you enjoyed this.**

Lelio - **Thanks for reviewing.**

Snape coolgirl - **'wasn't bad.'  Hm… maybe it's the early morning stupor, but that's a complement, right?  Just kidding.  Thanks for reviewing again.**

*** - **Yes, Master.  Anything you say, Master.  Thanks for reviewing, Master.  (snickers.  Hope you liked this bit.)**

le'Ange de Mort - **That's okay… Just mention me and my fic when you… hm… appropriate something that I have done… I can't wait.  You should write more, hon.  You're a great writer!  And yes, family vacations suck.**

MostEvilKitten - **Thanks.  I thought so too.**

Artemis MoonClaw - **I have, now you continue reviewing.**

Muggle - ***smiles and blushes*  Thanks.  I think that a walk down the Dark side can do anyone well, but then again, I'm a closet weirdo.  I used to call my mom from my closet freshman year.  No, just kidding.  But truthfully, Harry needed to know what was so appealing.**

CatatonicReaction - **'known'.  Am I supposed to respond 'unknown?'  Sorry, I am confused.**

**And finally.******

Mella deranged - Well, consider this.  You have been arrested for a crime, not your fault.  You have been imprisoned in Azkaban, the world's worst prison, and heard the screaming, the suicides, and still seen Voldemort's in your mind.  You're stuck with memories of your supposed family beating you and such.  Knocking you around at the minimum.  All your happy memories gone.  No Animagus transformation.  Just you, and the pain of living.

Then along comes someone who offers you a new chance at life.  A chance to hurt the person who hurts you.  And all you have to do is swear your allegiance to him, on a soul you don't even believe you have any more.  He's lucky that he's not catatonic.

I believe that if pushed too far, if relied upon too much, anyone can break, and in this story, Harry did.  My friends always tell me that it's not OOC if it's believable within the context of the story.  Here, I feel it is. 

Sorry,  just had to say that.


	11. Epilogue

The 2nd War of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and the Silver Serpent. Page 323 of "A Brief History of Dark Lords." Copyright 2001.

            The greatest Dark Wizard of the 20th century referred to himself as an anagram of his own name; however, editing will not allow the print of this name.  Instead, the euphemisms "You-Know-Who" and "He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named" are employed.  

            He amassed a large following of people, referred to as "Death Eaters", who were wizards, usually pure-blooded or half-blooded, and marked them with a spell called "Morsmordre," or the Dark Mark.  The sign rested on the follower's left arm, the shape of a skull with a snake through its mouth.  It was used to summon and identify Death Eaters.

            During his first reign of terror from the late 1960's to 1981, You Know Who amassed a followership bordering on the thousands.  During this time, nearly 20,000 lost their lives in confirmed kills in both the Muggle and Wizarding Worlds.  He was stopped for nearly 13 years by a boy named Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived.  The only known survivor of the Killing Curse (Avada Kedavra), he survived even when both his parents were killed by the Dark Lord.  Because the Killing Curse rebounded, it expelled You Know Who from his body and caused him to revert to a non-corporeal entity until 1995, when he used the blood of Harry Potter to resurrect himself.

            The Minister of Magic adopted a policy of ignorance, as even though people began to die as a result of the newly resurrected Dark Lord, he refused to acknowledge the wizard's return.  In this vein, he ended up taking the Boy Who Lived into protective custody, but in actuality, held a secret tribunal, framing him for the deaths of two Aurors he actually had killed to stop them from spreading rumors about the Dark Lord's return.  Potter is believed to have died in Azkaban, as his extreme reaction to Dementors is well documented in his medical file.  With him, some hope for the Wizarding world died as well.

            The next reign of terror was short by comparison.  Less than a year after Potter disappeared, Voldemort attacked Azkaban, and freed his followers.  Shortly after this, the Silver Serpent, his proclaimed heir was brought into the Death Eaters and began making a name for himself as a cold and careless killer, eventually killing the Minister of Magic.

            You-Know-Who was killed on the 12th of May, 1997, by Albus Dumbledore on the grounds of the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He was felled by a Light Curse, and his Death Eaters were subsequently arrested by the Ministry of Magic. Their trials took nearly 18 months to complete, and over 20 Death Eaters lost their lives in the assault on Hogwarts. No student casualties were reported. 

            12 Ministry officials were killed or died as a result of their wounds in the wake of the battle; nearly 34 more were forced to seek treatment at St. Mungos. 

            The Silver Serpent was reportedly seen during the battle, but he was not arrested with the living, nor counted among the dead on the Hogwarts grounds. Some theorize that the Silver Serpent managed to elude Aurors and has remained one step ahead of his pursuers in the time since then. Others theorize that he was a ghost of some sort, and hence disappeared, as his identity remains a mystery. Still others say that he died with the Dark Lord, and was carried away by a faithful Death Eater for a fitting ceremony.

            As of the time of publication, no sightings of the Silver Serpent have been confirmed by the British Ministry of Magic or the International Confederation of Wizards.

            It has been proven that the Dark Mark fades when its Master is gone, therefore, even faint markings have been used to convict suspected Death Eaters, and even light association with them can garner the Dementor's Kiss.

            Any sighting of a Death Eater or the Silver Serpent in particular should be reported immediately.  Do not try to apprehend them, as they are considered dangerous, either armed or unarmed.

            Little is known about the Silver Serpent except that he was approximately 16 at the time You-Know-Who fell, and he would be 21 at the time or printing.  He has black hair, with silver highlights; silver eyes and is approximately 6'1" in height.  He also is reported to be a Parselmouth, although this is unconfirmed by Ministry officials.

            With no trail, no leads, this case has been moved to the Ministry's classified files, and little is known about what the Ministry is doing to apprehend the Silver Serpent at this time.

-- Written by Hermione Granger  

***************************************************************************************************************

_            The teen stood at the base of a mountain, looking up its height.  His skin was darker now, having spent a month or two in Italy while trying to mentally recover from the death of his surrogate father.  The bags under his eyes were long gone, and the sparkle of life that had been missing from his eyes found its place once more.  He was dressed in a green t-shirt, blue jeans, and hiking boots, clothes that hung off his wiry frame as he gazed at the mountain.  "We should climb it," he announced, solemnly._

_            His two guardians flanked him.  "You're joking!" the dark-haired one replied.  "There's no possible way that we can climb that."_

_            The light-haired one sighed.  "Siri, it's doable.  Manageable.  Remember, a journey is like the future, Harry.  Take it one step at a time, and you'll reach your destination, someday," he explained, rubbing the teen's shoulder gently.  "Unless Siri's too old to climb a little old mountain…"_

_            With a quick pop, a gigantic black dog was in his place and after nipping at the other's heels, he took off up the path at a run._

_            "Oh no you don't!" the teen replied, shifting mid-stride into a green-eyed jaguar and taking off as well._

_            Remus sighed.  "Well, at least that got rid of them.  A beautiful day for a walk," he muttered, looking up to the summit of the mountain.  A wistful smile graced his face.  "A beautiful day indeed."_

--00--

Well, there's the end of Silver Serpent…

But the sequel, entitled The Serpent's Redemption will be out when I have finished updating Written in the Stars, my HP/SS slash.  Review that, as only 34 people have done so, and then we'll talk about the Serpent's Redemption.

Thanks to my reviewers for the last chapter.

amy- I did that to try and trick more people into reviewing.  And you'll see… that some do forgive.

Artemis MoonClaw - Um. Well, still alive, so I guess that's good.

chips challenge - Thanks.  See below for what's next.

Anne Phoenix - actually, it was neither… how's that for being the Random part of my handle?

RavensHaelo - I apologize, it's my idealistic 'I wanna be good' complex.  Actually, I didn't get those roommates, got another set.  They seem a bit prissy for me, but I'll manage.

HPIceAngel - Sorry… keep reading though, I just may make it worth your while :P

Jes Imagin - yes, anticipation sucks sometimes 

AngelicPyro - I must claim that it's the fault of my Slytherin side.  I'd apologize, but that would defeat the purpose of having a Slytherin side.

Snape coolgirl - glad to get announcements that people won't kill me.  Always nice to know that I won't die today.

RaistlinofMetallica - thanks.  I'm just glad it hasn't moved people out the door, and away from my fanfic.  Hope you can hold on for the sequel though… it will be tons o fun.

kateydidnt - I know that, but I don't think that Harry does.  Harry's angry, and he's feeling abandoned.  He's looking for someone to blame, and Dumbledore doesn't have power of life and death over Harry at this point.  Besides, he's right there, and easy to yell at.

kateydidnt - again.  Thanks.  I like trickery… it's great.

CatatonicReaction - hey, either way, thanks

Annie - nothing's unbreakable.  Hope you like how I'm going to put him back together…

luke-6622427 - wow.  *clears throat*.  I see… well, hang on for the sequel, maybe you'll get more of your death and destruction fill… see teaser below.

lunar_scythe - Sorry about the chair, maybe I should have posted a seatbelt warning.  But anyways, I fell off some steps once and completely bruised my ass on my way to Intermediate swimming.  I apologize if I injured you, cause I know how painful it can be.

Just a teaser though,

            Blood flows in the same patterns as water; it's just more visible, more viscous and ultimately, more permanent.  It coats your skin, fills your nostrils with its scent and drowns your vision in its crimson color.

            He looked down at his hands.  A wicked silver dagger lay in his bloodied right hand and in his left lay a beating human heart.  

            Vernon had died, lying immobile, but now, a hand grabbed each of his forearms and Harry dropped each of the objects: one landing with a clatter, the other with a squelch.  

            The hands were slender, rather than portly.  The bulk was taller than it was fat.

            It wasn't Vernon, and Voldemort wasn't behind him, he saw, looking over his shoulder, nor were the other two Death Eaters.  The cell was the exact same though.

            The eyes that glared back at him beneath black fringe were crimson, with snake slit pupils.  The hands that gripped Harry's arms were coated in blood, and excess blood flowed from his neck.  He glared accusingly at Harry.

            "Father," the teen breathed, his voice failing.

            Voldemort's face tightened.  "You were never my son," he rasped.  "You let that foolish old bastard kill me unavenged."

            Harry's heart froze.  "Father, I…"

            "I _died for our cause."_

            Harry tried to back up.  "No."

            "I rescued you from Azkaban.  You would have died there.  You _should have died there, Potter," Voldemort added._

            "No, I…" Harry stammered, pushing his vice-like grip away.  "Let go of me.  It's not my fault."

            Voldemort yanked Harry closer.  "Why should I let you go, little snake?  I've marked you as my own."  He stroked Harry's cheek with bloodied fingers.

            Harry pulled back again.  "You don't own me, Voldemort.  You never have.  You always let me be my own person."  He glared at Voldemort.  "You're dead now.  You're not really here."

            Voldemort smiled.  "I'm dead because you leaked my plans.  And I'm as real as you want this to be, and you want this to be real.  You've tasted both evil and good in your lifetime.  You don't want to forget me, because you liked the power, Potter."

            No spell was spoken, but Harry was bound at both the wrists and ankles, hanging from the wall.

            The rough stone bit into his back as Harry was slammed against it.  His breath was knocked from him and he gasped as the dagger was picked up and brought to his throat.  "My snakelet.  I'll do you this one favor.  You wanted to kill yourself?  Let me do you the favor of helping you to know how it feels."

            The knife bit into Harry's wrists, causing blood to flow down his arms.

            The dagger then moved to Harry's shirtfront, cutting it away.  The cold of the air and the knife forced a sharp gasp from Harry, and he tensed.

            "You destroyed me.  Isn't it fitting that I take my revenge on you as you took revenge on your kin?" Voldemort spat.

            With that, the dagger slid across Harry's neck, and he drowned in blood.

            The Dark Lord had a cruel smile on his face.  "Just keep telling yourself that it's only a dream.  Maybe someday, it will be true, Potter."

            With that, the dagger plunged into Harry's chest, and only the absence of further pain marked the fact that his heart was now in Voldemort's hands.

            "Goodbye, Harry…" he hissed.

            Harry!  Harry! Another voice seemed to echo…


End file.
